


Separation

by Name1



Series: Moving Forward [11]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks Galore, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Romance, idiots to lovers, there's a story somewhere in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 45,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1
Summary: “Okay, let’s go over the plan for the day one more time.”“You’re going into the city to meet with Greef--look into some jobs and see if he has any inside information about the bounty on my head we could use to our advantage. I’ll take the kid with me and go underground to see if the Armorer is still around or collect any clues about where she might have gone if she's already cleared out.”ORCara and Din (ch1) meet up with old friends,  (ch2) make a plan, and (ch3) attempt to carry it out.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Moving Forward [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648918
Comments: 72
Kudos: 66





	1. Old friends

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is supposed to be 3 chapters, but because it's taking me so long to get it done, I decided to post it as it's completed one chapter at a time. 
> 
> If you like flashbacks and weird introspective moments, well then do I have a chapter for you :)

They break atmosphere and see the familiar desert mountain landscape from the viewport. Din has already programmed their landing location into the computer and set the auto-land function, so he sets about braiding her hair in preparation for landing. Her hair is still wild from sleep and their morning tussle and he knows she won't set foot outside the ship until it's tied back and under some semblance of control. He’s become quite skilled at performing this daily ablution for her over the past months and is more than a little impressed how much better he’s gotten.

He's sitting in the pilot's seat and her head rests against his leg in their last moments of quiet peacefulness before they have to leave the sanctuary of the ship to face the day. He continues to comb his fingers slowly through her hair even after he’s finished; as much of a comfort to her as it is to him. This day could go really well, or it might really suck; it could go either way. Idly he wondered if there’s another form of braid he could learn that would better signify their relationship or signal that they’re _together_ \- some ornament maybe or altering the placement on the side of her head. There are no written records of these things (not that he’s exhaustively looked) and so the only record of their symbolism resides in the memories of those few survivors. He can ask her about it later. He doesn’t want it for the territorial aspect or to show she’s ‘taken’, but he wants her to be able to show their commitment publicly. They’re together in every possible way and as committed to each other as two people can be. He wonders what kind of gesture he can make on _his_ part to make their standing clear to passersby.

Cara, brings him back to the moment as she speaks. “Okay, let’s go over the plan for the day one more time.”

She still hasn’t moved her head where his hand is still splayed over it. They’re both dreading whatever answers they might be set to receive today but there are so few good options at this point, he's trying to believe something might present itself. The kid had crawled into her lap and when she speaks, he can feel the subtle movements of her face where it's resting on his thigh. “You’re going into the city to meet with Greef--look into some jobs and see if he has any inside information about the bounty on my head we could use to our advantage. I’ll take the kid with me and go underground to see if the Armorer is still around or collect any clues about where she might have gone if she's already cleared out.”

“You sure you know the tunnels well enough from this side of town?" Din asks her. "We’ll be landing the ship to the South this time.” He’s surprised at how well she seems to know them at all.

“Yeah, it’s been over a year, but I still have a pretty good layout in my head.” She's confident she remembers her way around assuming there haven’t been any renovations or damage requiring a detour.

“You seem to know them better than I do then.”

“That’s not surprising,” she comments. “You always took the same path from the same entrance. I took a different way every time to figure out where all the exits were and the best way to ambush an enemy if cornered down there. Some old habits die hard I guess, or maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“Don’t apologize for being strategic or thinking of every possible scenario. That’s not paranoia, that’s preparedness and it’s served us well in the past.” Din’s continuously impressed with her ability to take control of a situation or environment. It comes so naturally, he can’t help but be impressed.

“It shouldn’t take long one way or another, so I’ll come find you in the cantina when I’m done. Greef can make some dramatic sappy reunion speech and we can enjoy the rest of the night in the city or head back to the Crest depending on the vibe we get from the locals. When I left it was pretty peaceful but who knows what’s happened since I left.”

She feels a twinge of guilt for leaving Greef high and dry after all he had done for her, but she wouldn’t have traded the life she had made with Din for anything in the galaxy. The peace she felt even now sitting with the two members of her family was enough to overcome all uncertainty or fear about the days to come. She never dreamed in a million years she would find this kind of peace, or acceptance, and certainly not love. She didn’t think she’d ever be capable of feeling it much less being worthy of receiving it, but these two beings had proved her wrong, and for once she was happy to have been proven incorrect.

They landed the Crest behind the mountain ridge, avoiding the common space port.

“It’s weird coming back here again. I don’t have the best memories of this place,” Din said, as they touched down.

“I’m sure.” She was sympathetic to the clan members he had lost here. “I don’t either, but we can make better memories here, like we have everywhere else.” She won’t let herself think of Kuill or IG-11 when she’s trying to reassure him this place can hold better memories. She won’t let herself think of watching Din dying, clutching his hand like she could somehow ease his suffering without any sedatives or painkillers. All she had were her useless hands and her words and her arms around him. Instead, she’ll focus on the joy she felt watching him approach her in the tunnels, his gait unstable but amazing alive; his clumsy first attempt with his jetpack and the friendship she happened to forge with a former magistrate and badass Mandalorian woman after Din’s departure. Though she had only made these friends because of her link to Din, she had actually given a shit to keep these relationships alive, the first people she gave a shit about since meeting Din and the first time she had let herself be fond of anyone since the end of the War. And of course, above all else she remembers his return…. How could she not?

“I do have a couple pretty good memories here, your miraculous recovery aside. I seem to remember you making a pretty amazing speech when you came back,” he hears her say, and sees the grin plastered on her beautiful face.

“Uggh. Amazingly _bad_ you mean,” Din groans. “Don’t remind me.” He hangs his head in embarrassment just thinking about that day.

She’s still smiling. “That was a pretty great memory.”

“For you maybe. I was so desperate to see you again and convince you to come with me I can’t remember half of the absolute _crap_ that came pouring out of my mouth. I can’t believe you didn’t stop me sooner before I made a total idiot of myself.”

Her grin isn’t shit-eating anymore; it’s soft and warm and shines only for this man in front of her who did indeed make a fool of himself so long ago. “As endearingly nonsensical as it was, I could see the honesty underneath it all. That’s what I remember most.” He reached out to touch her hand in response. The last time they were here, he only dreamed of touching her like this, and he would never take for granted the ease with which they touched now.

“Actually, I remember one other part too.” Her smirk changed again as she spoke, and he braced himself for what was surely coming. “You still think all my ‘ _parts look nice_ ’?” Of course, she would never let him forget that.

“If we had more time before the sun goes down, I’d show you again how _nice_ I think they look, but then we wouldn’t make it to the city until nightfall.”

“Nightfall, huh?” She lets out a low whistle. “You _are_ feeling pretty confident. I like it.”

“I don’t need confidence. My stamina knows no bounds when you’re in the same room.”

She laughs. “Let’s get dressed and you can show me this _stamina_ tonight. The faster we get here the faster we can get back.” He knows how to make her laugh because he scrambles out of the chair in haste to get their armor laid out much faster than usual. She feels like an idiot just looking at him--she can’t stop smiling. They’re here for a serious reason, but being here with him just makes her happy. ‘ _Ughh_ ,’ she groans internally, at the sorry state of her. She has to get her game face on before they get to town. Either of the people they might come across would sense something was up if she was smiling like an absolute fool.

They get dressed and give each other’s armor a thorough once-over before reaching for their satchels and loading up with weapons. This place still makes them both a little uneasy and they won’t be caught underpowered again if things go to Hell. Bean knows better than to reach for detonators now, so they line their boots and belts with extras just in case. She fastens the kid in the sling and ties it around her chest before grabbing the hooded cape to protect them both from the sun as well as prying eyes.

The ramp of the crest hits the ground and they watch as the dust is kicked up, obscuring their vision. The smell is familiar though, and the kid chirps as soon as his sensitive nose picks it up. His little eyes are going back and forth taking in the scenery before Din and Cara walk to the bottom of the ramp and put their boots on firm ground. Din starts a scan for life forms and it confirms there's nothing within miles-living or dead. 

He plans to have security protocols activated as soon as they leave--he’s learned that lesson. “Cover Bean’s head for a second,” he says. It’s only chance that she sees his elbows bent in the way she’s come to recognize to mean he’s reaching for his helmet, and manages to avert her eyes just in time. He leans down to kiss her, sweet and slow with the sun beating down on their faces. “The last time both of our boots touched this soil I wanted to kiss you but I thought I'd never get the chance; I thought you could never look at me the way I looked at you.”

“Guess you were wrong. You must be pretty used to it by now,” she teases him, as she smiles against his lips.

"You might be a smartass, but I still plan to kiss you on every planet we set foot on from here on out.”

“You big sap,” she scolds him playfully. “Just don’t get careless.”

“I scanned for lifeforms first,” Din says in his defense.

“Yeah, but what about motion activated cameras or someone far away looking down a scope,” she counters. “Don’t get me wrong,” she says, as she kisses him blindly one more time, “I want to kiss you on every planet too, but I want you to stay alert. Your beliefs are important to me and the kid too you know.”

He was touched by her concern and the fact that his beliefs had become her own. "You’re always watching out for me," he says matter-of-factly, as if it came as naturally as breathing to her.

"You bet your face I am," she says, and he laughs. He was continuously surprised how he found new ways to be in awe of the woman by his side. Her generosity, her faith in him, her caring nature --he was one of the lucky ones privileged to see it up close on a regular basis. Her protective instinct, not just for him but for the kid, _their kid_ , was incomparable. He pitied anyone who tried to lay a hand on Bean....

“I know I told you I wouldn’t overdo it, but I love you Cara.” He just had to say it on this planet where so much began. He first knew he loved her on Sorgan, but it was here where he knew what kind of love it really was or had the potential to be.

“Good, I love you too.” She kisses him one last time for good measure. “Let’s haul ass before the sun gets much lower.”

He puts his helmet back on after kissing her one more time just to have the last word. “Let’s go.”

He could be such a sappy, affectionate, love-struck dork at times, but she couldn't find it in her to mind at all. She reached out to hold his hand like a love-struck dork too as they walked into town.

………………………………. 

The overall feel of the city is much as he remembers it. He and Cara had taken different entrances into the city with plans to check-in immediately if anything looked amiss. They would not be ambushed here again if they could help it. He trusted Greef, but someone could have intercepted his transmission and been waiting for him to land, kid in tow. Cara had taken Bean exactly for that reason--no one was expecting _her_ and she would go directly underground while he explored the city at ground level. No one could have known Cara was with him, so Din tried to relax and focus on making his way to the cantina.

He walks through the doorway and lets the visor do most of the work of adjusting his eyes to the change in light as he looks around the room. He walks differently when he’s here, exuding a confidence he’s not sure is 100% genuine to make sure everyone in the room knows he’s not to be fucked with. It’s the middle of the day, so the few patrons in the room are more avoiding the sun than looking for food or drink and when Greef sees him from across the room he shoos them out the door.

“Mando!” he booms out, in his characteristically exuberant voice. “Good to see you!” Greef looks mostly the same; maybe slightly more relaxed than he ever remembers seeing him, but on the whole, reassuringly similar.

“You can call me Din is no one else is around” he assures the older man with slightly more gray hairs than he remembers.

“How was your journey?” Greef asks. “It took you longer than I thought from your message.”

“Took a small detour,” was his only explanation. Din thought that was the understatement of the year--that detour had been the best thing he’d ever done. Those carefree days with the three of them just enjoying time together had been wonderful and he would remember the look of awe and wonder in Cara’s eyes until his last moments. Finally making love to her after so many months of temptation and desire had been transcendent, and the first time she told him she loved him made his chest ache with reciprocated love thinking about it even now.

Greef looks around, oblivious to Din’s inner thoughts. “Where’s the little one. He’s okay, isn’t he?” 

“He's safe. You'll see him later,” he assures him. “I was hoping to stay for a few days.”

They shoot the shit, making small talk for the better part of half an hour. It feels nice to catch up with someone who he actually ‘ _maybe_ ’ likes. _Okay, so maybe he shot him that one time, but things had definitely changed since then._ He seems genuinely concerned about the wellfare of Bean and Cara, the two people Din care about more than anything, which forms a good foundation on top of their past shared experiences under duress.

Din takes his pick of several bounty jobs the Guild proprietor has laying around and Greef hardly bats an eye when he chooses some jobs that would be easier with a partner. For a second Din had been worried he had given away that he no longer works alone, but Greef was none the wiser. There were also a handful of local jobs around town that were being contracted for. Din thought it might be a nice of change of pace to take a couple of those too if he and Cara decide to stay a handful of days. He’ll ask her about it when she joins him any minute.

As if his thoughts had summoned the topic, Greef turns the conversation to Cara. How would Din describe her to Greef once the cat was out of the bag? _Would he call her his…… his what?_ Would he describe her as his partner, girlfriend, lover, or spouse? ‘ _Partner_ ’ sounded like a business arrangement; though she was his life partner, which maybe held a higher connotation, but still didn’t adequately represent the love and respect they had for one another. ‘ _Girlfriend_ ’ sounded like they were horny teenagers, which maybe they felt like more often than not, but that didn’t do her justice either. ‘ _Lover_ ’ sounded like their relationship was just sex, and while the sex was mind-blowingly amazing, ‘ _making love_ ’ better fit the bill and it still focused their relationship into a narrow box that didn’t represent what they shared or what they meant to each other after all this time. That left him with ‘ _spouse_ ’, ‘ _wife’_ , or ‘ _riduur_ ’-- now that sounded right.

Even if they hadn’t said the words, everything else was there. He had learned over the past year and then some, that _words_ don’t matter if the feeling is there. While hearing Cara say she loved him had made him shine with happiness, nothing really had changed--he already knew she loved him long ago. The love, the respect, the affection, the loyalty and fidelity, the protectiveness, the family they had built, and the honesty they shared no matter what, were there _in abundance_ and as binding as any vows they might speak to one another. He had accidentally called her ‘ _that word_ ’ in Mando’a in his head before, but the idea was all but cemented there now. He regarded her as his wife.

Greef angles himself so he has a clear line of sight to the door to make sure no one walks by to eavesdrop on their sensitive conversation. “You can never be too careful nowadays,” he says aloud, when Din takes notice of his change in posture as he cranes his head to double check the coast is clear before speaking. “This is what I’ve managed to collect so far,” he says regretfully, as he rummages around in his pocket. He pulls out 5 pucks and they all light up with identical images of Cara's enlistment picture with her younger face staring back at him. “I've been collecting these as I come across them and I’ve told everyone looking to collect to steer clear if they valued their life, but the Republic is offering a king’s ransom for her.”

“How many pucks you think are out there?” Din asks, fearing the answer.

“Hard to tell, given how long it’s taken me to collect these, maybe …..I don’t know….no more than 50?”

_Fifty? Fuck._

“What do they plan to do with her, have you heard anything? Who put out the call for her entrapment? Who exactly is this asshole? I want his name.”

The older man shakes his head. “There’s not a lot of details. Just that it’s some officer in the New Republic’s military justice section. I only have his last name ‘Rycell’.”

“You don’t know his age, his first name, his history in politics?”

“Sorry, I don’t,” he says truthfully. “I want people to keep feeding me information so I have to be as objective as possible and not ask too many questions which might scare off informants. You know how it is. I can’t give away my position and still be able to gather intel.”

“I know. You’ve done a lot. This is a great place to start. She’ll appreciate all you’ve done on her behalf.” He understood Greef was better off playing aloof so he could continue to gather information and keep his ear to the rumor mill. If he snooped too closely, the proverbial doors would shut in his face and they would be without any inside information at all. He was a huge asset to keep safe in their corner from a strategic point of view, not to mention his personal tie to them both.

“It doesn’t feel like enough, but I’ve tried to deter as many people off her trail as I could. Hard to point them in the wrong directing though, since she's been off the radar.”

“Yeah,” Din agreed, “she's hard to find if she doesn't want to be found.”

“Did she call you tell you where she's headed?” he asked Din. “Maybe I can point some people in the opposite direction if you find out.” Greef still obviously believed she had split of to travel alone at some point. Din wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not--did Greef think he just dumped her somewhere or she left because it was so awful traveling with him?

“No. She hasn't called,” Din said. Technically that sentence contained no falsities--Cara didn't call him since they lived together. 

“I just worry about that girl,” Greef confesses somewhat abashedly. “I don’t know if I ever told you before, but I was married what seems like a lifetime ago now, but kids just weren’t in the stars I guess. If things had been different, I'd want any daughter we’d had to be like her; strong, independent, and doesn't take shit from anybody. Don't tell her I said this, but she's surprisingly kind and understanding when you catch her on the right day too.”

Din feels guilty for keeping up the charade after seeing how much Greef actually cared about what happened to her. _Cara either made you love her or hate her, that much was true._

He heard Greef speak again. “When was the last time you rendezvoused with her?”

He almost choked -- he had been around Cara too much. She would have jumped all over that innuendo-laden phrase with a smirk that could start a fire and a dirty joke that would make him warm under his armor. ‘ _They had 'rendezvoused' that morning’ she’d say. Twice in fact._ He could hear it in her voice so perfectly that it was a shame that she missed it.

Greef seemed oblivious to Din’s inner humor and continued thinking aloud. “You think she knows she can come here if she's in trouble, though right? I hope she doesn’t think I’m upset with how she left.”

‘ _Okay, time to come clean_ ,’ Din decides.

“You can ask her yourself in a few minutes. She should show up anytime now.”

“What makes you say that?” the older man asks.

“We traveled here together. She's on Nevarro right now”

“You met up with her to come here?”

“No. We've lived together all this time.” Din felt bad for previously lying but it felt amazing to say aloud that he and Cara had been together this whole time. The lie he had told was only to protect her in case their transmissions were being intercepted.

“Really?” Greef asks, sounding more than shocked. “ _All this time_ , and you haven't killed each other?” He sounds amazed and maybe a little impressed. “You must have been at each other's throats every day.” _Damn,_ Din thought to himself. Cara was missing all these prime lead-ins _._

Just as he was about to say what he thought, he heard her voice come from the doorway.

“Din _loves it_ when I’m at his throat, don’t you Din?” The enticing way she throws that question his way and the intonation in her speech pools exactly where she knew it would. _Damn that woman._ He would not get turned on sitting here with Greef in the same room. _Don’t think about kissing her throat as her head is thrown back in the shower ….don’t think about her kissing your neck as she straddled you in the cockpit this morning either._

"Hey boss man,” she said, as she walked in like she owned the place. “This Mandalorian bothering you? I can take care of him for you if he is."

“Cara ‘ _kriffing’_ Dune….” Greef greets her as he stands up from the table as if he can’t believe she’s actually here. He hugs her, patting her firmly on the back, and all three of them (4 including the kid) are surprised at how easily she goes along with it. She leans to one side to protect Bean but doesn’t pull back in any other way. “Mando was just telling you you've been together all this time. More than a year now. You must be all over each other in that small ship. No offense.” 

“You want to take this one Mando or can I?” she says, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“It’s all yours.”

Before she can start into the dirty joke she has at the tip of her tongue, the kid wiggles and whines pitifully as he recognizes the familiar face.

She takes the grumpy kid out of his carrier and places him on the table where he recognizes Karga and shuffles over to him. Greef puts him in his lap and the kid loves the attention from a familiar face he hasn’t seen in some time. She sits down across from both men and kicks her boots up onto the table near Din in a faux relaxed posture. Din has to hand it to her; she looks confident and invincible as Hell right now.

Greef directs his next question to them both. “So, you guys are planning for staying at least a couple of days, right?” Din looks to Cara and watches her nod. “Sure. it might be nice to stretch our legs for a week or so if you can put up with us for that long. I’m pretty tired.”

“He keep you up all night?” Greef asks, without looking up from the fuzzy kid in his lap.

“Yeah, wore me out, and I do a pretty good job keeping him up all night too….but the kid slept like a rock.” The confused look on Greef’s face is like currency to her but he just lets it go without further question though his face is still doing something weird.

Din lets out a sound that is part laugh and half exasperated sigh. 

The older man is holding the kid’s little hands as he stands in his lap. "He still got magic hands?"

"Oh yeah, you have no idea,” she replies, “…….and the kid is pretty talented too.” _There’s no way he won’t get that one_ , she thinks. Beside her Din lets out a louder sigh and tips the chin of his helmet down to his chest in fond surrender.

His face is still doing that weird perplexed thing, but he still doesn’t say anything to give away he gets it. He looks back and forth between the two of them. "You guys are acting weird, maybe you should so lay down and we can talk later."

“I’m ready to get lai—” Cara starts to say but Din cuts her off.

“We going back to the ship or you got room for us around here, Greef?”

“Of course. Of course. You’ll have two of the best rooms at the inn,” he says kindly, before throwing in, “free of charge of course. Stay as long as you like.” In case they’re interested he even reminds them, “there’s even some small jobs to be picked up locally if you’re looking to keep busy.”

Cara’s had enough beating around the bush.

"Actually, we’ll just need one room instead of two," she says, with a straight face. As much as she enjoyed having fun and making dirty jokes to make Din laugh, their very real committed relationship was nothing to joke about. It was everything good she had to call her own and she wanted Karga to take it seriously when the good-natured ribbing died down.

"But....." Greef said, somewhat uncertainly, looking back and forth between the two of them, before stating the obvious. "There’s _two_ of you…."

"Yeah…. and we need just the _one_ bed…." Cara tried again, saying it slowly to let him catch on. _Was it really so unbelievable that the two of them could find happiness together?_

"There’s one bed in each room……so, that’s one bed for each."

She’s had enough. “Oh, for the love of ……” She goes to make an obscene hand gesture that will more than clear it up, but Din covers her hands with his. “What?” she turns to ask him in a huff. “Does he need me to draw him a diagram?”

“Don’t you dare.” He can't even begin to image what would happen if she got a hold of a pen and some paper right now.

“So Din,” she said turning to face his body directly, ignoring Greef altogether until his brain decided to put two and two together. “You ready to go climb into that one bed; the _two_ of us? _Together_ …..like we do _every_ night…..?” She could not have possibly put more focus on the meaning behind her words if she tried. If Greef didn’t get it now, she was just going to climb in Din’s lab and start tugging off his clothes until the message came across loud and clear.

She sees the moment the light goes off in Greef’s head, registered on his face as his eyes widen and his mouth slightly drops open. “Ohhhhhhh…….you’re--- Oh, right, yeah.”

He’s fumbling to get out of the chair and behind the desk as fast as possible. “Right. One room, let me go grab you the key.”

"Are you actually blushing over there?" She calls out, and Din lets out a snicker that makes her face light up.

Greef came back over with the key but she could still see the wheels turning in his head. He looked like he was deep in thought and blurted out his next words before he could think better of it, "but how do you two……………..you know?”

Cara had an answer for that too. "With our pants off, any other stupid questions?"

 _Not technically true_ , Din thought to himself amusedly. There was that one time when he stood behind her with her hands pressed against the weapons locker and they had been so desperate he barely managed to get them down past her hips before ….

Greef handed over the key to the room they would be sharing with the room number attached by a tag on a string. His look suddenly turned smug. "You know, I knew it this whole time….,” he said, full of bravado. “I knew there was something going on between you two."

"You're so full of shit," Cara said. Not two seconds ago his brain looked like it was ready to explode.

"The way you two looked at each other way back then; it was clear as day."

Din and Cara looked at each other but it was Din who answered this time. “Maybe you’re right.”

……..

Cara’s POV

After she and Din had separated outside the South gate, she started to walk the familiar path she knew would take her to the sewers. This side of town was much less populated, so it was a prefect option to keep the kid away from prying eyes. She had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu walking in search of the Armorer without Din by her side. The last time she had made this walk daily had been after Din had left Nevarro that horrible day so long ago………She remembers the days she spent adjusting to his absence once again……..

\---In the past---

After Din had left, Greef had made good on his promise to let her work while he cleared up her clerical issues. He seemed to know everyone from back-alley record-keepers, to public servants, and even government officials and accountants. She thought of Din and that little green bean more often than she would ever admit. The look on his face when he saw the discarded Beskar armor and tiny helmets would haunt her as much as the sound of his voice and his weak hand in hers when he asked her to let him die an honorable death and leave him behind. She didn't know what kind of reception she would receive when she made her way back into the sewers two days later, but she didn't think the Armorer would be outright hostile given her calm and even demeanor, if she was even alive. She was not fooled into thinking her connection to Mando ( _Din_ , now) was enough to give her any leeway with this strong woman but she couldn't stay away. The thought of what they had seen in the pile on the floor and how much it had shaken her friend didn't sit well with her. He obviously didn't care for _her_ , but she cared for _him_ , and she would do anything she could to help put his friends to rest if she was allowed the chance.

She would do this in honor of her friend who had almost died protecting his son and then left her without a second thought. He might not have cared for her any longer, but it still bothered her watching him hurting. He'd never know she tried to help, but she would and that's all that mattered.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Cara calls out, as she approaches the larger chamber housing the forge. _Sneaking up on this woman would not be a wise idea._

"I did not expect to see you again,” came the even voice of the woman she was seeking out.

"Yeah, well. I wanted to check and make sure you were okay after we left." She looks around at the collection of Stormtrooper armor, clearly impressed. "It looks like you more than handled it yourself. You're not injured, are you?”

"No, I am uninjured."

"Good." The silence stretched on, and Cara wasn't sure what to say to this stranger she had just met once before but obviously cared about the same man she did. She knew this about her though, no one would get any information out of this Mandalorian without her being good and ready.

"Do not think me rude, but why are you _here,_ friend of Din Djarin?" The Armorer seemed interested but not threatened; this was a good start.

“He left and I remained,” Cara said, in a simple explanation. “I was hoping there was something I could do to help you in his stead. I know I'm an outsider and I understand if I shouldn't touch the beskar itself, but you seemed to have a lot of work ahead of you salvaging what remains and I thought I'd offer my assistance if you could use it.”

"Why?" she asked, in her same monotone voice.

"Why what?" Cara asked, confused. She had just explained why she was here.

"Why do you want to help?"

"Because these people that lost their lives and this way of life mean something to Din and he was my friend." She didn’t have a better reason than that and if she was turned away, she would go without argument. This woman had been through enough and didn’t need her pile of issues on top of it.

Her answer must have been an appropriate one because the woman walked over to Cara and handed her a pair of gloves. “You can help me removing the different metals from one another. I take it you can tell the difference between fiberglass, durasteel and beskar?"

…….

They worked for hours, almost the entire day, side by side before Cara realized it was nightfall. 

"I should leave so you can get some rest."

"Very well." This woman was truly one of few words.

"Can I come back tomorrow?” Cara asked, not wanting to pressure her if she had already worn out her welcome--Cara knew she wasn't the easiest person to get along with. When no answer came from the other woman, Cara amended her question. "If I'm just bothering you, you don't have to appease me. I can take a hint if you don't want me to come back."

"What is your name?" the Armorer asked, and it was definitely not the response Cara had been expecting.

"Cara.....Carasynthia Dune. But, let's get this straight, if you call me Carasynthia I might punch you in the face, helmet or no helmet."

"It would be ..... _amusing_..... to see you try." Her voice held the first trace of humor Cara had ever heard.

"Lady you have no idea. If you fight anything like Mand-- _Din_ I'd have you on the ground before you can say Beskar."

Her companion seemed unbothered by the threat. "Perhaps the reason you got Din on the ground so easily was because he _wanted_ you on top of him." 

"Cute, but no,” Cara clarified. “I just kicked his ass fair and square. If you get bored, I'm always looking for a good fight. I might even let you win once or twice."

Cara hears her make an amused sound that caries outside her helmet through the tiny speaker. "I see why Din likes you, though I must admit I'm a bit surprised. I've never seen him like anyone before" she hears the Armorer say, and wonders which part of her she thinks Din liked. It couldn't be her big mouth; he was always teasing her about it. She heard her continue, "If you choose to come back tomorrow, I could use your help if you are still offering it..........Cara."

......... two weeks later.........

"You never go above ground then?" Cara asks her companion, when she seems to be in a talkative mood.

"I do only when it is necessary, but very infrequently."

"You want to come up and sit on the roof for a while?" Cara asked her, knowing she would decline, but offering anyway. "It’s late at night and no one will see you if we take the back steps."

"Why?" the woman asked, hesitantly.

All the beskar had been melted down and there was no longer an excuse for Cara to spend time below ground anymore. Nothing remained of the armor that had shielded the bodies and held the spirits of the race hunted to near extinction. It seemed inappropriate to Cara not to mark the completion of their work in some way, but she knew they couldn't share a drink.......

"Because you've been kind enough to keep my grumpy ass company and I haven't seen you come up even once."

"You've been bringing me food and supplies; why would I need to go up?"

“Look," Cara started patiently, "I'm not trying to force you into it, I just thought you might like some fresh air. Don’t worry about it, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait."

Cara turns back at the sound of the other woman's voice. 

"I'm coming," she said, "but just for a minute."

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but I wouldn't look of you wanted a second of cool night air on your face. I could go inside and not come out until you came and got me."

"That's all right,” the other woman said in response. “I appreciate the offer, but I can enjoy the night sky all the same."

It was dark on the roof and there was no one in the streets. Cara could smell the aroma of a wood burning fire and wondered if her companion could as well. 

"I'm sorry about your people," Cara quietly said, once silence had fallen between them- she truly meant it. Even if they hadn't been unlikely friends, she never could stomach the thought of genocide on even the smallest scale. And this was the clan of her.....friend. _She couldn't think about him in this moment. She'd focus on the Mandalorian in front of her and not the Mandalorian light years away by now._

"As am I," the Armorer said honestly. The somber sound of her voice was haunting. "They were given a proper burial though and their armor returned to the forge. Sometimes that is all the comfort that can be gleaned from a senseless tragedy." 

"You should know, I'm not trying to say I know what you're going through but I've lost my people too." Cara had no idea what had prompted her to speak. She didn’t like the idea of this woman mourning all alone without anyone who understood.

The golden helmet reflected what little light there was as she turned her head toward her to listen.

"I'm from Alderaan, you know. It was destroyed by the empire."

The Armorer didn’t need the history lesson to know of what she spoke of. "I know of its terrible fate." _Everyone did_. "I didn't know you were from there though."

Cara just nods, unsure of what else there is to say. 

"Did you ever visit the quartz falls?" the Armorer asks, even as she turns her head away again.

"What?” Cara asks in disbelief. Had she heard her right?

“When I was a child, I set foot there only once, but I remember that place. The beaches had pink sand.”

Cara couldn’t believe it. "Yes, I know that place. _Knew_ that place." She had to remind herself to use the past tense. "Each grain of sand appeared clear in the light, but when they were all together the way they refracted the light made the sand appear pink. In school they always taught some philosophical crap about how being an individual can change those around you or something about how we're all part of a larger whole.”

Cara couldn't help herself it seemed--she had so many questions and this enigmatic woman appeared to be in a rare talkative mood. "We're you born a Mandalorian or were you a foundling?” For all the time they spent cleaning up the tunnels, they only talked about superficial things, but it had helped Cara feel not only less lonely but as though she almost had a friend.

"Foundling,” the Mandalorian replied. Cara could almost hear the ' _like Din_ ,' purposefully left unsaid.

"I took on the role of apprentice when I was only about ten and by the time I was sixteen, my mentor, the clan's Armorer, had died and I was the only one who knew the trade."

"Have _you_ trained an apprentice?"

“No. I need to, but there are no foundlings anymore of our clan. Din's is the only one and he doesn't seem adept at wielding a hammer.”

"He'd love to chew on it though," Cara said with a smile though it couldn’t be seen in the dark. She thought of that little fuzzy kid that had wormed his way into her heart and his little teeth that chewed on everything. 

Naturally, thinking of Bean, made her think of Din-- not when he _left_ , but the time before when he had _returned_. She remembered the her joy at seeing him walking into the outpost on Sorgan, knowing he was seeking her out; the days of easy banter and inexplicable closeness that followed as they were side-by-side during the trip to Nevarro; how he had teased her and how easy it was to smile around him....

Almost another hour had passed in companionable silence before Cara realized the time. "Let's head back in. It really is late now. I didn't mean to keep you this long." 

It had only been 2 weeks of Cara helping underground doing assorted jobs and tasks, but it had really helped the time pass less slowly when she wasn’t working alongside Karga. She was more than capable of the tasks the Armorer had needed assistance with, but when she was done, she mostly sat in the corner grabbing things and handing them over when asked for while they conversed to pass the time. The other woman didn't seem disturbed by her presence--if she opposed her being there, she would have been removed. If anything, Cara's presence was a welcome distraction. They commiserated, and complained, and chatted and Cara found the metal-worker was surprisingly easy to talk to when she found the right topic. 

"Will you return tomorrow?" The Armorer asked once they got back inside. The work was all done and there was no labor-related reason for her return. The Armorer was tinkering with some piece of electronics on the small table she was sitting at.

"Until you bar the door-- it keeps my mind busy." Cara sees her fiddling with a small familiar box that had the levers and controls removed. She had worked on communication devices similar to that one years before, during her time as a soldier. "By the way, I can help extend the range of the two-way scanner you're working on; I've done it before. I'll start looking for the parts tomorrow." _There, now she had a reason to come back._

"See you tomorrow then."

"Actually," Cara says, just as she stops in the doorway, "Before I go, I have a question you probably know the answer to."

"I'll try to answer it if I can."

She walks back to where the woman is sitting and takes a chair opposite her at the table near the forge which has been powered down for the night. To the armorer, she asks, "what does Mesh’la mean?"

"Your accent needs work, but I know the word you are attempting to say. Why do you ask?"

 _Damnit_ , Cara thought to herself. She had been around Mando ( _Din_ , his name was _Din_ ) too much, apparently. She could practically _hear_ the smile in the woman’s voice without seeing her face. She wondered, _'were all Mandalorians this easy to read once you knew their voices or just these two_?'

"Din said it to me one time-- told me to figure out what it meant and get back to him. I want to see the look on his face when I tell him what it means,” she says it with as much sass as she could muster until she remembers his absence once more. "Not that I'm likely to ever see him again, but still......."

"You know you can’t _see_ the look on his face even if you figure it out, right?" _When did this woman become such a smart-ass?_

"It’s metaphorical,” she replies, in a tone that conveys that should have been obvious. “And I can _see_ what he’s thinking with the helmet in place, thank you very much."

"How?" The Armorer sounds intrigued, which was rare in and of itself.

"The way he tilts his head, the position of his shoulders, the tone of his voice. The sound of his laughter...." Cara feels embarrassed for some reason getting lost in remembering his tells and how she collected them in her mind like hard-won trophies.

"You’ve _actually_ heard him laugh?" the other woman asks disbelievingly.

“All the time,” she says automatically before realizing she might have made a faux pas. "Why, is that forbidden or something?” she asks. "If that's the case, I lied, I’ve never heard him laugh."

The armorer snorts in amusement but her voice betrays her wonder when she says, "I haven’t heard him laugh in almost 10 years." When it seems like she has nothing left to share, Cara turns to leave. “I’ll be back tomorrow, is there anything I can bring you?"

"Beautiful," the Armorer simply says, and looks back at her work she was tinkering with on the table as if she hadn't said anything at all.

"Excuse me?" Cara asks, slightly turning her body back around to look at the armored woman more closely.

"Beautiful," she says again, giving away nothing with the tone of her voice.

Cara is confused and she hesitates. "You coming on to me or what? I mean yeah, you’re hot but I – "

"The word Din spoke to you," the woman clarifies. "It means _beautiful_."

Cara's eyes narrow as her forehead wrinkles slightly in uncertainty. "Are you sure? Why would he say that to _me_?"

The Armorer makes a huff that sounds almost like an amused snort, if she was capable of such an undignified sound. "Have you never looked in a mirror?"

"He doesn't look at me like _that_ , lady." She wanted to ask if the woman really had the meaning correct, but of course she did--it was her own language after all.

"Then why would he say it?" The armorer asks her, challenging her to come up with the explanation she already knows but can't accept.

_He had said, that it was an adjective that described her....._

The other woman surprisingly speaks again. It's rare when she talks this much.

"I’ve never seen him lean on anyone before. When you were here together, I saw him reach out for your shoulder to steady himself."

"He was badly injured then, probably a skull fracture," Cara supplies in explanation. For some reason she feels like she needs to defend his actions. He didn't care about her like that--that much was clear. He never came onto her and he was never a creep or tried to get in her pants. _That's what you do when you're attracted to someone right?_

' _It was fine, totally fine'_ , she thinks. He didn't think about her like a woman; just a buddy, a mission partner, and not even one worth sticking around for. She could convince herself it was fine, just like she did every time she thought of his stupid laugh or the sight of his bare hand as he helped her up off the ground. She could shut down the feeling that spread through her chest when she thought about the easy mornings they had shared and the patrols around the village they had taken much slower than necessary to avoid separating for nightfall. Her own feelings for him had no bearing on this. Any moment of weakness where she might have admitted she had secretly wished he looked at her like she looked at him was just that; a moment of weakness. He didn't _want_ her, and no amount of caring for him would change that now. You can't make someone lo--. She slams that door shut in her brain before she allows herself to finish that thought.

The armorer, her _'almost friend'_ now she supposed, needed more convincing. "He kept looking to you, not just to see if you were injured but for your opinion, your instincts, and your assessment of the situation. Do you deny that?"

"He trusts me in a fight that's all.... " Cara's heart already hurt, she didn't want to think about this anymore. The armorer must have had it wrong, but she was so tired, and she didn’t want to argue about _this_ of all things.

"You don’t understand,” the woman continued, “It goes against everything for a Mandalorian to show weakness in front of someone outside his immediate clan. He let you walk ahead of him and accepting help or assistance from you tells me more than a thousand words. Words are cheap and they can contain untruths. Actions speak much louder and are more truthful.”

The woman leans closer to Cara to speak more quietly as if someone could overhear them.

"He cares for you," the helmeted woman says simply, not inviting any chance to argue such a simple fact.

"All evidence to the contrary......," Cara says in response. She meant for it to come out sassy or annoyed, but it just sounded sad even to her own ears. Fuck it, she _was_ sad. She let out a frustrated huff. "He didn’t ask me to go with him. There's your _action _that you say speaks louder than words."

"You care about him still? You wanted him to ask you to go with him?"

_Yes._ Cara thinks. _Why deny it, but he left._

Again. That asshole left her _again_. Why did she keep opening herself up to this kind of pain, this kind of hurt? Being useful and then tossed aside……

Who would want her by their side anyway……? For a moment, _just an instant_ , she thought this man had. When he laughed with her, teased her, reassured her; told her he had missed her…..

No one had ever seemed to see past her rough exterior to even try to learn the person underneath. She was a weapon, a tool, a _body_ that completed missions and achieved outcomes, but for just a moment Din had made her forget about that and she just felt like a woman, like anyone else. Even more basic than that--she had felt like a _person_ ; a person who had a friend, who looked forward to the end of the day instead of dreading getting a few hours closer to the dark quiet of night. It was easy to laugh with him where she could hardly force it to the surface before. She had _liked_ him. And in her moment of blind affection, she had let her guard down when he seemed to like _her_ too. She hated being wrong, but this wasn't anger or hatred, this was just _hurt_. 

_She was such an idiot_ , she thought to herself.

"Yes, I care about him,” she said, as she decided there was no benefit to lying about it. “Someone as damaged and broken and messed up as _me_ actually cared for someone as good and as --- ”

She couldn't even finish her sentence as she felt her voice break on the words she wanted to say. "You must be getting quite a laugh out of it," she directs her words to her stoic yet not unsympathetic companion. She smiles sadly as she thinks about it and how foolish she must appear to this wise woman beside her.

She scoffs and it sounds pathetic. "What a joke, right? Like it could have ever been something. I can't believe for even a second I thought maybe there could have been....... like he could have ever really seen me and still wanted me around him and his kid. I know what a disaster I am--that idiot just made me forget is all." She absolutely would not cry in front of this woman. She'd held in her tears through gunshots, and stab wounds. She's kept herself together through the loss of her home, her people, and the countless funerals of those stupid hopeless kids who served under her who never had a chance as a dropper and signed up anyway. She would not cry in front of this woman.

"I can see the turmoil in him. He’s fighting between his paternal responsibility to his foundling and his own wants. I’ve never known him to want anything for himself before,” the Armorer says patiently.

"Well, save your breath. He doesn’t want me, that’s for sure." The armorer full-on laughs at her ridiculous statement and it's beautiful in both its rarity as well as its pitch. Cara tries to go along with her humor to lessen the blow. "I guess it is kind of funny, maybe. I’ve never let myself get close to anyone and the first time I do, this is what happens." The laughter was over, but it still stung. "I'm glad I'm a continuous source of amusement for you."

Cara didn't look angry and she didn’t look sad--she just looks numb, resigned. Like whatever door had finally cracked open had just been slammed shut again. 

She gets this pensive and confused look on her face as she realized everything she just said out loud.

"Why am I even telling you this?"

"Don’t give up on Din, he’s worth it."

“I know he is, that’s why it hurts,” she says, truthfully. He was worth so much more than what she could give him.

"Hurting lets you know it’s real."

Cara bristles at that. “Okay, enough of the philosophical meaning-of-life bullshit. I’ve had enough hurt for one lifetime, thanks.”

"He won't leave things hanging between you. I bet you 500 credits he comes back within 6 months. And another 100 you’re the first person he seeks out."

Cara was certain he wasn’t coming back again. He had come back _once_ for her and she hadn’t convinced him she was worth being with, why would he come back again? She thought there had been _something_ there, something that only felt stronger when she saw him again, but she had been wrong. _He_ didn’t feel it _,_ that much was clear. He walked away from her like she didn't mean anything; just a second gun in the fight. His own words were, ‘ _you looking for some work_?’. That’s all this was, ‘some work’. 

She was such a fool. It was just business to him, that's all it was. No one ever looked at her and saw anything more than what they could get out of her. Her eyes were burning now. Her face felt hot and her nose was running. 

At the very least she thought they were friends, maybe that was the wort part. No, worse than that was how it seemed like they were inching toward something _more_ than that; the way his hand lingered in hers just a little too long; the way he sought out her company like he had missed her; the way he kept glancing at her when he was sure she wasn’t paying attention. No one had ever made her feel like he did; like she could be good, maybe even be better.

She had actually _tried_ too, that was what made her chest ache. She had _tried_ to show him she was good enough to want to stick around for. _When was the last time she had tried to impress anyone?_ He must have seen enough and realized who she really was. That was all there was to it; he saw through her trying to be nice, useful, and a good team player. She had opened herself up to him and he saw her true self and only found her lacking--in what way, she didn't know; every way probably. She tried to blink back the hot tears she could feel forming in her eyes, but instead the movement of her eyelids made them fall down her cheeks instead. 

Did she really imagine everything on Sorgan though? Those mornings on the porch; the afternoons laughing like idiots and sparring; meals when they would take turns feeding the sneaky kid and end up wearing more of it than he actually got in his mouth. It had felt so real. Even remembering it now, it still felt so real; like nothing she had ever felt before. She remembers the warmth of his words when he said he had missed her and how he overflowed with nervous energy as he showed her around the Crest…. . Maybe he was playing her the whole time, but she couldn't believe he had it in him to be cruel. It didn't matter now. He wasn't coming back; that much was a sure bet and she could really use those credits.

"You’re on, 500 credits" she said, as they shook hands.

"When he comes back, keep the polishing cloth I lent you; it’s the best fabric for polishing Beskar," the Armorer says knowingly. Cara turned over the green velvety fabric in her hands she had planned to return at some point. 

"You know, I don't need you babying me and telling me pretty lies to save my feelings. I'm a grown-ass woman."

"I wouldn't say these things just to spare your feelings, despite the fact that I like you. I believe it to be the truth. He cares about you more than I've ever seen him care about anyone." 

"Well, he had a shitty way of showing it then." She tried to find some humor to get this conversation back into safe territory, as she turns her back to discreetly wipe angrily at her face, mortified that she made a fool of herself in front of another person.

"I don't think he has much frame of reference,” the other woman offers in explanation, “don't punish him for that. I'm certain he will return and when he does, I hope your own feelings of disappointment and resentment won't prevent you from being open to what he has to say. Din’s always be hesitant to make important decisions until it's clear what's at risk if he chooses not to act." 

Cara's finally gotten her face dry though she's sure her eyes are puffy and her face must look a mess. 

"I don't even know what that means, you always talk in riddl—” she says, as she turns back around, but the Armorer has already gone. _Someone needed to put a damn bell on that woman._

Six weeks later, Cara’s head was turned toward the sky when she caught sight of a ship she didn’t think she’d ever see again. "Son of a ……" she cursed out loud, and kicked the ground hard. "There goes 500 credits." She didn't know it yet, but it turned out she'd need to come up with 600 instead.


	2. Catching up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din’s voice is serious when he speaks to her; all humor from their previous storytelling was gone. “You have always provided me with sound advice and though I don’t want to be a burden to you, I could really use your unique perspective right now.”
> 
> “I will help you however I can. You know that,” the Armorer states, reassuringly.
> 
> "Cara wants to turn herself over to The New Republic and I can’t go along with it....."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,  
> It's me again! I wanted to rush through this second chapter so I can focus on the third. 
> 
> This is like one giant flashback at the beginning, then we're back at present day, so I hope it's not confusing. 
> 
> From last chapter : Cara and Din split outside the city to find Greef and the Armorer, respectively, and then planned to switch places.

\---In the past----

The whole journey back to Nevarro Din had wondered if maybe it was already too late. What if Cara had already moved on? What if she never wanted to see him again and shut the door in his face, refusing to hear him out? His first unknowing chance at happiness had come when he asked Cara to accompany him protecting a village from raiders and he had blown it when he left. His second chance had come when he returned to Sorgan to see her again and he had blown _that one_ even worse. This was his third and final chance. How many people get three chances, and would Cara even be willing to hear his apology after weeks of radio silence? How he had wanted to contact her, but he didn’t want to disrupt her life if she had found happiness and freedom without her chain code haunting her any longer. He wondered often if she ever thought about him. Did she miss him at all, or did she only want to see him again for a chance to drop him to the ground?

He had missed _her_ though. Every thought came back to that one simple fact: he had missed her. Every day away from her had seemed longer than the one before, but he was worried he wouldn't be able to articulate that to her in a meaningful way. He wanted her by his side again and he hoped against hope she would be willing to hear him out. He had to find her first and he only hoped she hadn't run.

Time to find out--Karga would know.

"Mando, good to see you my friend," Greef calls out from across the room, as he walks over. "Wasn't effecting to see you back around these parts. What can I do for y--?"

"Greef,” he says hurriedly in greeting, and realized he inadvertently cut him off. “Is she here?" He knew it would take the other man a minute to figure out what he means but Din doesn’t really have the luxury of patience when he’s already waited too long. He repeats, "I’m looking for her, is she still here?"

"Who?" Greef asks, and Din can’t tell if he’s honestly confused or just playing dumb on purpose. _What other woman would he be looking for?_

"Cara. I’m looking for Cara,” Din replies, and even just saying her name out loud to another person makes him feel warm in a way he hasn’t felt since he last saw her beautiful face with his own eyes.

"No,” Greef replied with what sounded like real remorse in his voice. “She's not here. She left some time ago. You looking for a job, I got plenty if you’re interes--"

"What?" Din couldn’t think of a more eloquent response than that. _What did he mean she wasn't here?_ She said she was staying; that's why he had left empty-handed in the first place. 

"She left?" he asked in surprise, and he couldn't disguise the disappointment in his voice at having missed her. He thought he might have one more chance gifted to him by the universe, but he was out of tries, it seemed. Maybe this was his punishment for not holding on to her when he had her- how he regreted it now. "Do you have any idea where she is headed?" he asks, hoping he could catch wind of some clue as to which of the four corners of the galaxy he should set course for.

"No….” Karga said. “All I know is she was pretty pissed off the way you left without a word though." 

Din cursed under his breath so low the sound didn’t even make it to the microphone and turned on his heel and made for the doorway. "I’ll be on my way then. Maybe I can catch her trail." He sounded determined, but exhausted. The older man wondered just how long he had been flying without rest to get here.

That actually made Greef pause. He just landed, _clearly tired_ , and he wasn't going to even stay there night?

"Did you _really_ come all the way beck here just to see her?” Greef had to make sure, as it would dictate the next words that came out of his mouth.

"Yes." Din says, though he doesn’t really have time to play twenty-questions right now. Anything else he could learn would be helpful as he sets a new course. "How long ago did she leave? What kind of ship did she book passage on?"

Greef lets up on the ruse and sighs heavily. "I'm just messing with you Mando. She's still here, it's just her day off."

Din was too filled with instant relief to muster the energy to be angry. Maybe he hadn't missed his chance to fix this after all. 

"Where can I find her?" he asked. He would lose his nerve if he ran though his planned speech many more times in preparation. He needed to see her now, before he lost his nerve and lost the adrenaline-like intoxicated feeling flowing through his veins that would help to loosen his tongue when he needed to be uncharacteristically candid faded.

"Maybe with the Armorer," Greef offers as a suggestion of a first place to look. "She goes down there most afternoons." Greef knew she only spent her time down there at night, but he could use the extra few minutes to head over to Cara's to give her a heads up about their mutual friend’s return that she swore up and down would never happen. He was going to be so smug about her being wrong, especially since she said it never happened.

As much as Din wanted to head there straightaway, he lingers in the doorway. "How has she been, Karga?"

"That depends," Greef says, being difficult on Cara's behalf. "Why are you asking? You here to ask for help with another _job_?" Greef couldn't hardly contain the disproving tone. If Mando needed to see her just to ask for her help again, he could just hop right back on the Crest post haste. In fact, after remembering the hollow look in Dune’s eyes that still lingered weeks later, if Din was here for _work_ he could just take his trusty ship and shove it somewhere inventive and painful.

"No, I wante--" Din starts to explain, before he comes to his senses. _He doesn't have to explain himself._ "Not that it's any of _your_ business but I just wanted to see her. I was going to ask if she wanted to travel with me and the kid for a while, but if she's happy here, I don't want to rui......."

"She's not," he says honestly, interrupting Din's sentence. Cara's going to kick his ass for this, but these two idiots obviously were friends and it doesn't sit right with him how Din ended it like an idiot. There are so few people in the galaxy you can call a ‘friend’; maybe one or two if you’re exceedingly lucky, and he didn't want to see them fall out if there was a chance they could get on good terms again.

He’s pleased that Din wanted to prevent any upheaval of her life if she was happy here, but that wasn’t the case. "She's quite skilled at putting on a smiling face and a happy demeanor, but she's miserable. Is _that_ what you want to hear?"

"No, it's not," he says, honestly. Din didn't want her to be miserable--he thought she'd be _happy_. "I thought she _wanted _to stay here,” Din said again in explanation, but it was clear he was trying to convince himself just as much as, if not more than, his companion.

Greef had an enigmatic answer that while accurate didn’t really provide any information. "Maybe it wasn't what she thought it would be, or maybe she was hoping for a different option that never presented itself." Din's helmeted face gives away nothing as he turns over Greef's words in his head trying to determine his hidden meaning.

Karga sighs heavily and gives a real summary of her life these past few weeks to his companion who looks anything but happy at how Cara’s life wasn’t the happy picture he hoped it had been in his absence. "Look, she's doing well enough--model employee--cleaned up the town almost all on her own- It's safe again for the first time in recent memory. People respect her and more than that, they _like_ her. She has a couple of drinks after work, helps out in the village, and spends time in the tunnels. That's pretty much it. There's no excitement and no adventure—you know someone like that isn't _meant_ to live in a small town."

"You think she'll talk to me?” Din inquires to the contact in front of him that is his best link to the reason he flew all this way. “How mad is she, really?” Cara had a temper but he wasn't sure what it was like to have it directed at him. They squabbled and argued good-naturedly, but he had never ever really known her to be truly mad at him.

"I'll just say you should be glad you’re wearing that much Beskar," he says, only slightly joking. "I wouldn't take it off before you approach her, or she might kick your ass."

"That never stopped her before," Din thinks fondly, knowing how close he is to seeing her again. "She hits hard enough the Beskar only slightly dampens it." She was glorious when she was angry, Din remembers. _Gorgeous, and strong, and powerful…….._

"Word of advice if you want it," Greef offers, "start out by apologizing for being and asshole with no communication skills-- that might go a long way. She doesn't like being left out of decisions or feeling worthless. ‘Mad’ might be the wrong adjective to focus on too……" 

‘ _Is that what she felt like?_ ’ he thinks. He was _trying_ to do the right thing for once. Had it come across all wrong? Did she take it as him deciding her life for her? Or worse, did she feel abandoned? She was the one who said she wanted to stay put for a while....... _Were all women this confusing or just her?_

…….

Din makes his way down into the tunnels and heads straight to the forge, purposefully avoiding looking around the halls that used to hold so much life and culture. He sees the armorer and approaches after announcing himself. She turns and only then does he say, "it's good to see you, are you well?"

"I am. And you? What has caused you to return so soon, Din?” she asks, “Is your foundling safe?"

“He is.” He likes this woman, but the small talk will have to wait. “Have you seen Cara? Greef said she'd be down here.”

She makes a humored unimpressed sound. "Greef _knows_ she only comes down here at night. She's probably in her apartment. Try there." 

"Why would Greef tell me she was here then if he knew she wasn’t?" Did he really just get outsmarted by Greef ‘ _four stormtroopers’_ Karga?

She gave her best guess. "To give her fair warning so she can get ready for a fight I assume. What do you want with her?" When the Armorer seemed interested in something, it usually meant trouble, Din had learned that from experience.

His response was simple and honest. "I want her to come with me.” He couldn't think of a more concise way to put it.

The sigh his female companion let out was both tired and exasperated. "Din, I'm talking to you as your friend who knew your face when you were little.” She pauses to make sure she has his attention. “I know it goes against your nature but do try not to be an idiot this time. You only get so many shots at this with a woman like _that_."

"I know,” he said, and he felt properly scolded now that two people had practically given him a list of the ways he had messed up.

The armorer speaks again, this time conspiratorially, "So, enlighten me. How _are_ you going to convince her to come with you again?"

“I don't really have a plan, though I have a speech,” he admitted and waited to read her reaction. He was talking to a woman _now_ and if she cringed at his plan, he might think of making a last-minute alteration. “I was just going to be honest and hope that's enough.” 

"She might not come with you," she says, not to be cruel but to remind him what the stakes were. “What will you do then?”

"I'll respect her wishes. I just want her to know that I made a mistake leaving when I did, and I wish I had a second chance to do better by her. She'll probably slam her door in my face, but I have to try.” He’d had enough _talk_ , he needed to _do_. “Wish me luck,” he throws over his shoulder as he turns to leave.

"Good luck."

"I'm going to need it,” he laughs. “She has a hell of a temper."

The Armorer chuckles fondly. _She definitely did have a temper_. "I've spoken with her and I don't think she'll slam the door in your face. That said, maybe it would still be better to put your foot in the door first before sticking your whole head in."

…………

Cara glances out the window and sees Din approaching her apartment, just as Greef had warned her he would. Seeing him brought back a rush of emotions she had forced herself to ignore. She thought about his dying breaths, holding his hand, and wanting to hear his laugh again-not his broken voice. ‘ _Stop it with the morbid thoughts_ ,’ she thinks. He was alive, that’s what mattered now; and that he was happy--that mattered too. Everything else could be worked out. If he was so happy though, what was he doing back here--his whole body looking haggard, even his gait?

She’d find out soon enough. As much a she’d love to knock his ass onto the ground she was more relieved that he was in one piece in front of her. 

After he knocks twice, the door opens and his helmet has to beep at him to remind him to breathe. She's here. She's really here.

It must actually be her day off because she's standing there in loose fitting pants and a thin cotton shirt with a deep scoop neckline that is so distracting he has to force himself to look away before he gets caught staring at her chest. It's almost impossible though as he realizes she's not wearing anything underneath it and he finds his eyes held hostage watching her soft curves as she takes a deep breath. Her hair is slightly disheveled and somehow looks even thicker than he remembers it. _'It must be the desert air_ ,' he thinks. Without her vambraces on he can see the soft skin of her forearms and the delicate scar he remembers from before. Her face has a slight smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose, but other than that, she looks exactly as he remembers and exactly as she does in his dreams he’s had almost every night the closer he got to Nevarro.

"Cara," he said her name, and hoped his voice didn't sound as nervous as he felt. _Damn he had a speech. What had he planned to say? He had gone over it so many times it was burned into his memory but now it was blank._

"Mando," she said back to him evenly in greeting.

"Cara." _Didn’t he already say that?_

"Are we just going to say each other’s names all day? It's hot out here." _She sounded annoyed already. This was not the best start._

"You _haven't_ said my name though. You can call me ‘Din’, you know."

"Do I?" she asked, already feeling the urge to be a shit just to spite him. "You never _told_ me your name I heard it in passing thrown around like a weapon. I’m under no assumption that I’m free to use it." Part of her wanted to be nasty and push him away with cold words and a stony face, but another part of her wanted him to stay indefinitely and see through her defensive posturing.

"I would have told you; I wanted to," he promised. "I had even thought about how I’d say it; everything else just went to hell before I could get to it."

"Tell me now then,” she insisted. “If you _want_ me to know it, then tell me your name."

“My name is Din Djarin. I’d like it if you called me Din.”

"It’s a nice name,” she admits. “Maybe I'll use it when I no longer want to punch you in the face." 

"Thanks, I think." Of course, she wouldn't make this easy for him, but he wanted to hear her say his name, even if just once. He had imagined how it would sound and he hoped he could at least ask her to say it after he had apologized and asked her what he had come to ask. 

When the silence stretches on just a little too long, she’s the one who breaks it.

"What do you want, Mando? What did you come back here for and why are we out in the sun in the middle of the day in the middle of a ‘kriffing’ desert?” 

Din can at least say what he came to say, even if she’s complaining. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” He didn't want to assume or impose by asking to speak inside her apartment. He needed more neutral territory anyway and he would be too distracted inside with the little bits of her littering the space of her living space. Her things still littered the Crest and he couldn't bring himself to put them away.

Cara’s relief at seeing him must be coloring her mood because she finds herself saying, “sure” before she can think better of it. She closes the door behind her and they move to the center of the courtyard. _She hadn't outright turned him away. This was a good sign._ He had a chance at least to try to talk to her. It's all he's wanted to do for weeks, but now that he was standing in front of her, he just wanted to touch her. 

She waited for him to speak but he had no fancy words. The great speech he had planned and practiced went out the window as soon as he laid eyes on her. She was as beautiful and powerful as he remembered and as his brain shut down, all he had left was honesty.

"I came back because I realized I made a mistake and I was hoping you'd hear me out and see if I could correct it if it’s not too late." He had to keep looking around to avoid looking at her face--it was too distracting.

"What mistake did you make that was so grave you had to fly back across the system to correct it?" Cara asks him impatiently, waiting for his answer.

_This was it._

"My mistake was leaving this place without bringing you with me, or at least trying to,” Din said as he finally looked directly at her.

She crossed her arms. "I'm too tired for riddles. When you left, you left without a single word like you couldn’t get away fast enough; so, what is it that you want me to believe now exactly? That you _wanted_ me to come with you and just ' _oops_ ' forgot to ask before the door hit you on your way out? You didn’t even say goodbye, asshole. Try again."

Cara felt bad at being such a bitch to him when he was clearly trying to make amends, but it was either _cry_ or _get angry_. She could do _angry_. Anger was safe. Anger was an old friend by now.

"That whole day was a shit show,” he said. “It’s not an excuse, I just........"

"No, it’s fine," she abruptly cuts him off. "I got it loud and clear. You got what you needed. You “ _hired_ ” me to help you and when the job was done, you left when you didn’t need anything from me anymore. Seems pretty cut and dry actually, not a whole lot of room for misinterpretation."

"It was _anything_ but cut and dry Cara,” he tried to reason with her, until he realized what that tone was in her voice. She wasn't _angry_ , she was _hurt_. How could he have missed that before? She may never admit it, but he had hurt her, and suddenly he felt like the asshole she had just called him.

Din steadied himself for what was hopefully going to be a lot of talking on his end. He hated talking this much, especially one-sided, but this was so much better than the alternative that he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but relieved she was still listening to him. "I wish I could blame my head injury for it, but I can’t, I was just an asshole. I brought you into that mess and you were almost killed. You almost fucking _died_ because I asked for you to be there with me. What kind of even bigger asshole would I have been if only an hour later I asked you to come with me again and risk your life? I couldn’t do it, Cara.

When you said you were sticking around on Nevarro I was …..relieved; relieved that you would be safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into another dangerous situation that you’re too brave and selfless to refuse. Every word he had spoken was true, but he really hoped she believed his next ones. “But you have to believe me that I was also _sad_ \--sad that we’d be parting ways once more. It was so _good_ seeing you again and then everything happened so fast and it was over."

"You left you idiot!” she all but yelled at him. “Of course it was over if you walked away."

"I didn’t want to." He thinks he sounds convincing and he is nothing but sincere, but Cara’s having none of it.

Her finger is pointing in his face now. “Don’t. Bullshit. Me.”

_‘Ok nevermind. Change of plan,’ she thinks—she’s more than just angry, she’s hurt too._

Cara’s not done. “You only came back to Sorgan at all was because I could _help_ you. And I wanted to help, so I'm not complaining about that. I’d always help you if you needed it.”

  
"I won’t lie,” Din says, and he means it _. He wouldn’t lie to her even if a lie would get her to come with him._ “I did think you could help me. But it was more than that. It’s always been more than that. I could find anyone to help—hell, I could have hired anyone to help, but I trusted _you_. You were my friend and to be honest I was looking for any reason at all to see you again--that’s the truth.” His voice had been climbing as he tried to make his point but he lowers it again for what he says next. “I missed you.”

She doesn’t say anything but it doesn’t matter, because Din knows what he wants to say with or without her participation. “I missed sparring with you and watching the sun come up with you and I even missed your dirty mouth and your lewd jokes.”

She couldn’t help but smile at _that_ , despite her best efforts to tamp it down.

_Stars, how he had missed her smile._

Din speaks again, referring to that horrible day of fire and explosions. "I trusted you and you didn’t let me down. Everyone I’ve ever met has let me down, but not you."

She shook her head slightly as the memory of that day which was always right at the edge of her mind came to the surface. _His blood, his slurred words, his damaged voice, his hand in hers getting weaker by the minute_. She feels guilty about that day even now when she’s supposed to be giving him a hard time. "I didn’t even help you though, you idiot. I left you to die. So much for not letting you down…."

"You're wrong," he insisted firmly. She had to see what her actions meant to him that day. "You gave me _everything._ You left my face covered. You stayed and held my hand when you should have long since run for safety. I can’t tell you what that meant to me but I did a shitty job of repaying you--I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving. You wanted to _stay_ and I thought it would be easier if I didn't make a scene. If I had to really say goodbye to you again, I’d end up making a fool of myself and asking you to come with me. I was scared you’d say ‘yes’ just because you’re too kind, when it wasn’t what was best for you, and I was scared you'd say ‘no’.”

"Me? Kind?" she asks disbelievingly, doubt clear in her voice. "Have you been drinking?"

“Not today, no,” he says, and it’s almost funny. “You know, this wasn’t what I had planned on saying at all. Greef said I should have started by apologizing for being an asshole with no communication skills.”

At that, she laughs and it's so easy it makes him smile in return, though she can’t see it when she speaks. “It is good to see you again. Fine, I forgive you for being an asshole. Did you get what you came for now?”

"Not yet.”

Cara can’t believe that there’s anything else he wants from her. "What is it then? What do you want besides that?"

"I _want_ you to come with me." _That sounds demanding so he rephrases it._ "I mean, I'd _like it_ if you came with me."

"For more _work_?" she asked bitterly, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"No," he said quickly, trying to make it clear what he’s after before she gets the wrong idea. "I don't want your impeccable aim or your mind for strategy. I don’t want your muscles or love of a good fight either. _I just want you._ Just _Cara_ and not _Cara Dune_ , ex-shocktrooper and all around badass."

She rolls her eyes at his thinly-veiled compliments, but she did hear the other parts too. She can’t bring herself to believe she interpreted them correctly though. He couldn’t mean he wanted _just her_ ….

"Will you at least hear me out?" he asks, becoming distressed at how this doesn't seem to be going in his favor. "Hear me out then call me an idiot when I'm done?" 

He noticed somewhere along the line of defending himself that he had crossed his arms. He forces himself to unfold them and watches in pleasure as she matches his body language and unfolds hers as well. 

"I’m not sure how I can make it up to you, but I’m asking you to come with me where I was too much of a coward to ask before."

"Why _didn't_ you ask before? Tell me that." If he wants her to fall for this again, he better have good answers to her questions. She wants to believe him—she does, but she’s can’t take another disappointment like the ones before.

"I was afraid you'd say yes and get hurt because of me and I was afraid you'd say no too, and I didn't want to hear the only friend I had say she'd rather live on a hellish desert than stick with me.

"You just want me here because I can help you,” she says resignedly, and it makes him angry because he thought he was making progress.

"No," he says vehemently, hoping it doesn't come across as brash. "I _want_ you here because nothing feels right without you. We were good together Cara and I think we could be better together ……..and I don’t even know what that means, but it’s the truth." This was the scariest thing he’d ever done, putting himself out there, totally at her mercy. He’d never had this much on the line before. He couldn’t live without her, he knew-- he’d tried and failed. He didn’t want to do this without her.

_If he’s going to go for it, he might as well really go for it._

"I’ve never met anyone that I ever gave a damn about; no one that even gave me a second’s pause. I’ve come across hundreds of people; some good, some bad, but not a single one I ever cared if I ever saw again--I never gave them a second thought. But you…..I couldn’t stop thinking about _you_."

She’s looking at him with a different look than before. Her eyes looked softer and her face more open, though her brow was still slightly tense. "You’re different,” he insists. “I felt this instant connection with you that I can’t explain it even now. When I had to leave the first time it was horrible. When I thought I had a reason to go back and see you again I actually forgot for a second it was because of the kid being in danger--I just looked forward to seeing you again, that was it.

“We make a good team, and no, I don’t just mean during missions. You get me, and I thought I got you too the way we just......” he trailed off as he realized he was babbling.

“I've never asked anyone to join me before. How am I doing? I feel like I'm doing a crappy job.” He needed to take a second to see her reception to what he was saying. Was he talking too much? Should he take a different approach?

"Keep going,” she said, though she crossed her arms again. At least she didn’t dismiss him. She wanted him to continue.

Din sets in for another long speech of describing his idiocy in detail for her judgement, and what he hoped would lead to a favorable outcome, though his chances were looking pretty slim. "I hadn’t even left the atmosphere yet and I knew I made a mistake leaving again. I never thought I'd see you again after Sorgan and yet I got another chance and I promptly fucked it up." He thought he heard her snort at that. “I hoped you were okay, that you were happy here. I hoped that you didn’t hate me."

She couldn’t help but put his fears to rest. "I never hated you." Even at her most angry and hurt, she couldn’t pretend she hated him.

"What I _hated_ was how you made me feel worthless--like some used up thing that was left behind once its usefulness was gone. My whole life that's all I've been and I hated that at the end of the day you thought that about me too, especially when I thought we were.........that you were...........different."

His chest physically hurt at what she just said. "I’m so sorry. That’s never what I thought."

He can’t believe that’s what she thought when he left. "You’ve never been some thing. And I didn’t care about you because you were _useful_. I’m sorry I fucked up. I’ve never had anyone worth returning for before, but you are. I have no clue what I'm doing here and ....."

_He hesitated, deciding whether or not he should say the other part that kept him awake at night wondering what could have been. He decides there’s no harm going all in._

“You can smack me if you think I'm totally off base, but sometimes when things were quiet I thought maybe I saw a glimpse of something else between us……….maybe........ but if you didn't see it too, or if you didn't think there was anything.....more sometimes……. Then maybe I just imagined it, or it was wishful thinking.”

"You're not wrong,” she admits, before she can talk herself out of it. “I saw it too--something........else…… sometimes." It seemed she couldn’t explain it any better than he could.

_She thought she had just imagined it too._

He had said so much already, she could at least give him something in return. "I thought about you too," she admitted, though her pride had to be forcefully pushed down to do so. "You and you’re stupid shiny face and your cute kid." She can be sincere for a second in the spirit of honesty. She speaks again. "I want to say I didn’t, but I did. I thought about you a lot. There was something I couldn't explain as well."

Din was practically grinning now.

"You thought about me too? he asked, equal parts delighted and surprised. "I think about you all the time, especially at night..... I mean….I thought about you a lot at various times."

She cocked her head and he could have sworn her saw her eyes glitter with amusement. 

_He could fix this. He just said that wrong._ "During the day too, I mean….. it’s not like how it sounds….not like a _woman_...... Wait, that’s not what I mean." His backtracking was making this sooo much worse, but he couldn't seem to shut his mouth as he tried to fix the mess he made of this.

"So you don’t think of me as a woman, _that’s_ what you’re trying to say?"

"What? No! I mean yes _of course_ I do,” he says in a rush. “I have eyes under here, you know. How can I look at you and think anything else?” He was trying to convey that she was beautiful but was failing miserably. "I can’t help but look at you and be reminded you’re a woman, it’s distracting to even look at you right now. You know what I mean…." _If she was going to cut him some slack at any point today, please let it be right now. _

"You know what, I don’t think I do," she says obnoxiously like he was afraid of, as she leans her weight onto one foot and puts her hands on her hips. "Why don’t you explain it to me," she challenges him.

He gives himself an internal pep-talk. _Okay Din, you can do this. Just say she’s beautiful and stop talking_

"You have such nice...... _you know_ ," he says, and trails off awkwardly as he sees her expression. He watches her eyebrows rise up as he accidentally gestures to her chest before realizing it and dropping his arms to gesture lower to her stomach and her hips. Her eyebrows don't really go down with his arms. _How can he tell her how beautiful she is?_

He tries again. "Umm.......all of it...........all your ...... _parts_ ........they're put together nice,” he says, and cringes so hard at what just came out of his mouth. "I mean, it sounds better in my head than when I say it out loud."

She continues to look at him unimpressed but clearly amused. 

"Come on Cara, you know what you look like," he says, giving her the most helpless gesture that made her snort out loud.

" _Which_ _parts_ are nice exactly?" She crossed her arms just to be a shit, and it caused her gorgeous breasts to almost spill up and over the neckline of her shirt. She had bit her lip too, and that ‘tell’ made him more relaxed than a hundred words. _She was teasing him._

Hearing her snort had done a funny thing to his chest. He wanted to hear her laugh even if it was at his expense--he just wanted to hear it again. He made a show of sweeping his eyes down her body, his focus lingering somewhere suspiciously below her shoulders and above her abdomen, exactly where she wanted him to look.

He answered her previous question honestly, but still looking where she obviously wanted him too. "You have nice.............eyes."

She laughs a beautiful soft laugh. "My _eyes_ are up here." Only then does he actually look her in the eyes and amends his answer as he sees her smile. "Okay, your everything then. If you think for a second I don't know you're a woman you must have an untreated head injury."

That got him the full-on carefree laugh he wanted. "Your sweet talk needs some work. Well, at least I don't have to worry about you picking up different women at every port with game like that....."

"You don't,” he assures her. “I'm not interested in other women."

How could he even remember other women existed when she was within a ten-mile radius?

Cara couldn’t help but realize that _ she _was the woman he was standing in front of willingly making a fool of himself for and she felt herself give a little in response. He looked still uncomfortable but determined. He looked tired too--like he hadn't been getting much sleep. 

She was worried about him. “You and the kid have been okay though without me?” she asked.

He'd been lonely but he didn't want to influence her decision by adding guilt so he didn’t voice it. Her choice was her choice no matter how much he wanted her there. 

"We've been okay I guess," he says honestly. “But I know what you're really trying to get at; you're asking if we _need_ you." She nods slightly but doesn’t say anything else. “You keep saving my ass and you’re great in a fight and I trust your judgement but ‘ _need_ ’ is the wrong word. I don't _need_ you for any strategic reason, I just want you with us. With me.”

‘ _Please let her put an end to this soon_ ,’ he thinks. He’s never talked this much in his life, and certainly not about feelings, but he would do it for her--only her. “I came back now because I just….there’s no job, no mission, no danger that I know of. I just missed you… Feel free to stop me at anytime…..It must sound pretty lame. I have no clue what I'm doing here. I don't know how to say any of this……”

She was wavering between instinctively want to follow him wherever he asked her to go and ‘that asshole left--make him work for it’.

“I feel like an idiot and I'm baking in the sun,” he says, realizing the sweating under his helmet is partially due to the sun and not just his nerves. “You going to help me out here?”

“I don’t know, you’re doing pretty well on your own, and I thought you just said you don’t need my help,” she teased him, throwing his own words back at him. She was grinning though; she was actually grinning, and it was looking more and more like the grin he remembered from before. They moved closer to the building to take refuge in its shade. She didn't think this quiet man would have been talking for so long. He really must have had a lot he wanted to say. 

“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” Din asks, just in case she decided to change her mind and cut him a break.

“Nope. Why, did you expect me to?” She seems genuinely interested in hearing his response.

“Of course not.” He wouldn’t expect anything less from this strong woman he had grown to respect and care for in a way he once had thought impossible for him. She could be a little shit at times, but she was never cruel. She would make him work for it, but she was worth all of it and more. He had hurt her without even realizing it and he owed her way more than this. He was wearing her down though; he could tell the way she smiled easier and the way she angled her head no longer in annoyance but something approaching acceptance.

“Carry on then,” she said. “You got anything else, or is tha----?”

"I call him 'Bean' you know,” Din jumped in, cutting her off. “I have for a while. I admit it." 

_‘Damn him. That was a low blow,’ she thought. She had once told him there was no other way to fight than to fight dirty, so what did she expect?_

'S _top pretending this isn’t what you wanted Cara,_ ' she thinks to herself. This is what she wanted and now it’s in front of her. How hard is she going to make him work for this? He’s already metaphorically thrown himself at her feet with his words.

“I'd have conditions” she says, and waits for his response.

He won’t give her an instant to change her mind. “Of course. Name them.” It sounded very serious, very official, but who was he kidding? He’d give her pretty much anything she asked for if it meant she’d forgive him and be by his side again, but he could at least pretend to negotiate and stand on principle.

"I want to be able to put my boots on the control console without hearing you bitch about it."

‘ _That was her first condition?_ ’, he thought. Just thinking about her propping her boots up on his control panel, while she complains about how uncomfortable the seat is makes him feel warmer already. 

“Deal.”

“You let me decide what’s best and not be a self-sacrificing idiot more than necessary, deal?”

“Deal.”

“I get a new mattress and pillow. The one you had before was awful.”

“Deal. And I’ll buy you a footlocker too,” he promises. “The kid gets into everything. I’m trying to teach him boundaries, but you know how he is….”

“You _tell_ me if I’m doing something to drive you insane and vice versa. We’re honest from here on out. Deal?

“Deal.”

"If we’re going to be living together I feel like in all honesty I have to disclose I’m not really that easy to get along with ….."

He laughs at that, though he tried to retain a serious demeanor for their negotiations. "You’re the _only_ person I’ve ever gotten along with. We’re good together and…..if you give me a second chance, I’ll do a better job of showing you I don't take you for granted."

“One more condition then,” she says, and Din feels his heart rate speed up.

“Anything.” _Shit that sounded really desperate._

"Promise never to cook for me again. I don’t have a death wish. The Empire couldn’t manage it, but you in the kitch---"

“You got it.”

She nods at him and he nods in return.

“Then I'll think about it…” she said.

"Are you sure....?" He can't believe it. Is she _actually_ going to think it over? Did he convince her enough to give him a chance?

She scoffs in disbelief. "Are you _ actually_ trying to talk me out of it now? Your pick-up lines _and_ your negotiation skills need work buddy. I just said I’d think about it."

“No, of course not! I just want you to know I want what’s best for _you_ , not what’s best for _me_ or the kid. But I want you to come, just not because I ….. you don’t owe me anything, It’s me who owes you, but—"

“Whoa hold on. Let's get one thing straight right now--you don't owe me a damn thing.”

He gets where she’s coming from. “You're right. This isn't about a debt or about making an even playing field. At the end of the day. …… I just like being around you, and we had something good.... _really good_.....and I was an idiot to leave before figuring out what it was.” He huffs in frustration since he thought the awkward words were over. “You meant something to me— _mean something to me_\-- and I had no clue how to say it without ...I still don't know how to say it. It's not something I've ever experienced before. I’m doing a terrible job of explaining this, I’m sorr---"

“I’ll come with you,” she says and cuts him off before he can apologize any further. He can stop trying so hard. She’ll give him another chance.

“What?” _Did he hear her right? She couldn’t possibly be impressed with that speech, if you could call that word vomit a speech._ _He was fumbling over his words like a complete idiot but she said ‘yes’._

“You’re right,” she explains simply. “We _are_ good together and this shitty life seems slightly _less_ shitty when you’re around so it’s worth a shot. And if there is something else, _whatever that means_ , it shouldn't be too hard to figure that out either. Either way....if you want me there, not because you need me, but because you want me, I'll be there. Just so we’re clear, if you need me as backup I'd come too, but I want to know that's what the deal is up front.” 

“I want you,” he said, and then remembered to append it, “to be there.” He could see her open her mouth to argue and he cut her off at the pass. “And before you ask, no, not for backup, just with me. If just being with me is enough for you.....”

She seems taken aback by his words. He managed to throw her too it seems. “Yeah. Okay. Good I guess.”

 _How pathetic did she sound? She had no clue what she was supposed to say._ She hadn’t done this before either. No one had ever wanted her before for just _Cara_ and not _Cara Dune_. Did he really just admit there was _something_ _else_ he felt between them that he couldn't stop thinking about? She thought about that ‘ _something else_ ’ too, more often than she should, but was relieved it wasn’t just all in her head _. Why did her face feel hot when it wasn't even in the sun any longer?_

He smiled at her way with words that matches his own. “Good? Really?” he says, and finally he’s the one amused in all this. “I essentially _beg_ you to come with me and you say ‘good’. You’re practically a poet.” _Did she really reciprocate even a fraction of his affection? She said she felt this thing too and that they could figure it out at their own pace and her face was turning pink, a color that couldn’t just be attributed to the intensity of the sun. He thinks she might feel the same way he does and it’s amazing—worth the whole trip here._

“Shut up _Din_ ,” she says, as she gestures at him with her hand wildly, “That, _whatever that was,_ that just came out of your mouth wasn't _begging_ though I won't stop you if you want to get on your knees. _There it was, what he had been aching for. His name on her lips._

“You’ll really come with me?” he asks, and tries not to let his disbelief seep into his voice. He felt he could fall to his knees--not in begging, but in relief. 

“You really want me there?” she confirms a final time. “Last chance to back out.”

“Yes, I want you.” The easiest question he’s ever answered. _Did he say it too fast? Did it seem desperate. Fuck it, he felt desperate._ Did he remember to add the word ‘ _there_ ’ at the end?

“Then I’ll be there.” That came out way to emotionally charged. ‘ _What was wrong with her_?’, she thinks. A few words from this man after weeks apart and she’s losing her edge. “You’re pretty hopeless without me, you gotta admit.”

He laughs, for the first time in a long time and feels everything shift into place. This was what he had been missing. _It was right here, with her._

“I am,” he agrees with her assessment. “Thank you for giving me another chance.” 

"I have it on good authority, you're worth it,” she says, before wanting to put him at ease. “I'm shit at communicating too. You might remember....."

“I don't remember any such flaws.” He grins under his helmet and though she can’t see it she always seemed to know it was there. He feels like things were leveling out, so he teases her. “I have to admit you might be a _touch_ impulsive or maybe _slightly_ hardheaded at times….. or maybe I’m remembering incorrectly. That blow you landed to my head might have caused short-term memory loss.” 

She groans but her annoyance is all superficial, as she grins. "Oh, will you shut up about that? It was one time, and I didn't even hit you that hard." He rubs the side of his head dramatically and it makes her laugh. "I bet I could take you now too, if you want to go a round before we take off."

"You're on."

They turn back to her apartment and she asks the question she really cared about.

"So, no bullshitting, how have you been?"

“Miserable.” He said it without any hesitation or exaggeration. "It was hard going back to being on our own after having you there." That was more honesty than she was expecting. He was much better at words than her, that was clear.

They’re being honest? Fine, in the sake of honesty she’ll admit it. “Me too.” They naturally fall into step together and it’s like they were never apart at all. “Let’s go. I only have one bag. I'll let Greef know too.”

Din’s had enough emotional honesty to last three lifetimes today, so he focuses on something safer. “Bean will be so happy to see you.”

“I can’t lie Din, the cute kid sweetens the pot.”

“I need all the help I can get.”

“With your negotiation skills and your way with words, you sure as hell do.”

' _Don't give up on din, he's worth it_ ,' the Armorer had said. Cara had to admit she'd been right. 

Cara was coming with him, this time _for good_ if he didn’t mess this up. He’d make sure she didn’t regret it. He felt hopeful for the first time in weeks and it expanded through his chest as he looked at her. Being in her presence felt _right_ \--a mysterious feeling he had never felt anywhere else. He hasn't ruined this, _whatever this was_ _or could be_ , beyond repair; or maybe he had come dangerously close, but Cara was just willing to repair it with him. She must have seen something worth repairing too.

Cara couldn’t believe she was going with him again. He came back for her after only a few weeks and said she had constantly been on his mind and not just as a partner to help keep the kid safe. He didn’t leave her behind after all. Maybe she still had some worth not tied to what service she could provide as a hired second gun. She’d make sure he didn’t regret it—didn’t regret _her_. She felt warmth when she looked at him and it spread throughout her body. This could be good; maybe even better than before. She was overdue some good and so was he. She looked forward to slowly exploring this thing they had both seen but never acknowledged before now.

They return to the crest together later that day. As she puts her things down, she looks around and notices all of her old things exactly where they were as she had left them. Her spare comb and pins were still on the shelf and the blanket she had used before was neatly folded. There was a space made for her boots near his and even the weapons locker had been reorganized to make room for her things. She felt strangely touched he had planned these details to make her feel at home.

He programs the controls for the automatic start, the ramp, and the doors into her computer at her wrist. She wasn’t expecting to be given control of the ship so soon, but strategically it was a wise move in case she needed to get the kid to safety without Din by her side. When he’s done, he’s still standing in front of her, but she’s taken aback when he feels him reach for her bare hands. “What are you doing, Din,” she asks. She had no problem with him touching her -quite the opposite- but it was unexpected and ‘unexpected’ put her on edge.

“Showing you that I trust you? He suggests. “The way I left before sure as hell didn’t instill any of your trust in me, but I want you to know I trust you more than anyone I've ever met. I’ve never lived with anyone else and asking you to give this a chance is not some trivial thing to me.”

She thought his words were comforting but what was decidedly not comforting was when he raised her hands to place them on the edge of helmet, curling her fingers around the smooth edges at his chin.

“What the Hell are you doing?” she said in a panic, as he lowered his hands from hers and she freezes so her hands wouldn’t move accidentally.

He just stands there, completely relaxed, his arms at his sides.

Did he not hear her, was something wrong? “I could take off your helmet you idiot, what the Hell’s the matter with you?”

“Will you?” he questions her, challengingly. “Will you take it off?”

“No! Of course not, Din. I thought you knew that. What’s gotten into you?”

“If you won’t take it off then what are you afraid of...I’m not afraid at all. I trust you.”

She stood still as a statue as she thinks about his question. _What was she scared of? Being weak, betraying him? Accidentally hurting him and never being able to atone for it? She’s done so much that she can never make right, but the thought of ruining his loyalty to the Creed he swore as a teenager, the only thing that matters to him, is beyond reproach_.

“I’m trying to show you I trust you, that’s all,” he says simply, and waits for her to relax.

“I _know_ you trust me, but what if my arm twitches?” she asks, still not moving but to breathe. Her hesitance just makes him trust her even more. “I’ve watched you fight and train; you have impeccable control, you won't slip.”

“No, I won’t.” He can trust her; she’ll make sure of it. She can trust him too, and somehow she knows he won’t let her down either.

………

Eating dinner, the first night back on the ship was quiet but not awkward. "You’re my guest,” he insists after they’ve finished their meal, “you’re not cleaning dishes."

"And how long are you going to act like I'm some esteemed guest?" she asked. "Not that I mind the royal treatment, but I think you forgot how annoying I can be."

"I didn’t forget. I missed your particular brand of annoying, believe it or not, and even the way you could goad me into a contest for pretty much anything."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I bet I can dry the dishes faster than you can."

He laughed which made her laugh too. "Maybe tomorrow, and get ready to lose," he concedes to get her to back down. "It's your first night, let me clean up after dinner."

They both got dressed for bed and scrolled through the news together on the larger of the display screens in the main space. 

“Goodnight Din,” she says, and she turns toward her bunk. She wore a thin tank low-cut top and loose pants, but it wasn’t cold in the cabin.

Din’s reluctant to separate for bed too, but today had been a long one and they needed sleep. “If you need anything, just knock. I sleep with the helmet off, you know.”

“I remember,” she says, and likes the way it reminds her of their shared history. It’s still surreal to be with him again getting ready for bed.

She takes a step in the direction of her bed, but she stops when she saw the fuzzy kid scurrying across the room holding her right boot.

"Why do you have my boot little guy?" she asked and gently pried it from his grabby hands.

"Maybe he's trying to keep you from leaving," Din suggested. He takes it from her and puts it back with its partner near his by the ramp.

Now with his hands free, the kid reached up to her expectantly. His request was obvious, but Din voiced it for him anyway. "He wants you." 

She gave an uncomfortable smile. "Kid, I’m not really cuddle material," she tries to convince him, but he just keeps his arms raised toward her.

"He begs to differ."

She turns her head to thank Din for his ‘help’ with as much sarcasm as she can muster. "Thank you for the translation, but I figured that out." She turns back to the fuzzy green bean. “I’ll pick you up one time and that’s it.” 

Din finds her statement to be hilariously false and laughs. Maybe she forgot the power that kid could exert over you with his big dark eyes and fuzzy ears, but she was about to be reminded if she had forgotten. “That’s _exactly_ what I said and see how that turned out?” He saw her smirk at him even though she was in profile.

Bean lays against the pillowy softness of her chest and looks so comfortable she can’t help but feel happy. "Okay, kid. I can’t lie, I’m probably more comfortable than the metal pram."

Just as she thinks, ‘ _this isn't so bad_ ,’ he tries to bury his whole head in her cleavage making her shriek at the tickle of his soft ears.

She laughs the most clear and bright sound Din had heard in a long time. “Din!” she laughed. “What _exactly_ are you teaching this boy?”

He sighed and smiled to himself. _Leave it to the kid to embarrass them both._ Din tries to diffuse the awkward situation. “He’s never seen a woman’s chest before--he’s just used to me. He doesn’t mean anything by it; they’re just new and exciting.”

He hears her grin spread before he sees it. “Do _you_ think they’re exciting, too?” she asks.

Din sighs and looks down at his chronometer.

“…..aaaand it only took you 8 hours to make a dirty joke. I’m impressed by your self-control, Dune. You must have been practicing”

“No practicing involved. I’ve just been holding it in all day. I was waiting until we got into hyperspace so you were stuck with me.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, more than thrilled to be ‘stuck’ with her. “I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you.”

“Me too.”

Awkward silence fills the space between them. He’s staring at the kid and that seems safe until he realizes the backdrop and what it looks like he’s staring at instead. He doesn’t want to be a creep, but she already caught him staring.

“I’m sorry he’s being weird,” Din says. “Here give him to me. You should get some sleep.”

She adjusts the little fuzzy menace so he’s more laying against her breasts than _in_ her shirt and he settles back down, pleased with the change in position.

Din reaches to pull him away and he cries. Din shushes him with the practiced-patience of a father--like he’s used to comforting this tiny green creature and his fierce little grumpy temper-- and Cara watches with a weird feeling in her chest at the two of them. “Cara’s not leaving,” he says reassuringly to appease him. “She’ll still be here tomorrow.” He loved the way that sounded. Tomorrow and the day after that.

They'd only had short glimpses into each other, but he liked what he saw every time. He was looking forward to getting to really know her in the day-to-day life they'd lead from here on out. Long term, he just hoped he didn't drive her insane with his weird mannerisms or periods of silence. They've never shared any kind of silence except comfortable ones but confined indefinitely in the same space he hoped they could learn to retreat when they needed to without offending the other person. He'd lived on his own so long he hoped he could prove a suitable living partner now. There would be some likely kinks to work out, but he'd be as flexible as he could to make her feel at home. Coming up with some kind of schedule would help too. 

‘ _Neither of us have really lived with someone else before. It’ll be quite the adventure_ ,’ he thinks.

As if she read his mind her hears her speak up. "There’ll be some growing pains I’m sure, but let me know if I’m being unreasonable or an asshole. Chances are I don't mean to or even notice I'm doing it."

"Same." He is suddenly reminded how alike they are, and it puts his mind at ease.

She’s clearly thought about this based on her response. "We can come up with an exercise schedule that works and figure out how things will work watching the kid so we can both get a break. We'll figure it out tomorrow."

_Din may or may not have checked on her twice in the night when he woke up, worried the whole day had just been a pleasant dream._

The next morning, she awoke with the kid nestled in her hair sleeping on her pillow. _How did he get in her room? It was probably just a one-time thing._ Seeing Din sitting at the table with his soft sleep clothes and his helmet sitting atop his bare neck made her stop and stare. The affection she had felt for him months before came rushing back all at once. He had actually come back for her yesterday. This was really her life now. Whatever this ' _something more_ ' was that Din had hinted at catching glimpses of, she knew _exactly_ what it was now.

\----------------------

Present day-

Returning to Nevarro

After splitting from Din at the South gate

“Su cuy’gar!” Cara calls out, as she enters the large chamber that houses the forge and sees the Mandalorian woman alive and well.

“You’re still alive as well, and your accent is much improved. You must have been practicing.” At the sound of the familiar voice, Bean starting squirming to get down from his carrier. She put him down and he waddled over to sit on the Armorer's boot and stare up at her expectantly.

Cara tosses the bag of credits on table with as much annoyance as she can possibly muster and they spill out on the wooden surface. "You may never hear me _say_ you’re right, but let it be said I always pay my debts." The Armorer calmly walks over and stacks the credits into nice neat piles.

_She was so smug under that helmet, Cara was sure. She’d bet money on it, but she’d learned her lesson._

"So, is it safe to say your return means Din is here as well?" The armorer had knelt down and rubbed her hand over the little green head and each ear as he pressed his head into her touch. That kid was getting so spoiled.

"He’s above ground right now talking to the boss man. He'll be down to see you in a few minutes."

“And how is Din?” The woman asked.

“He's fine,” Cara answered. She knew where this was going but would not make it easy for her.

“Have you lived with him all this time?” the Armorer asked in amazement. “The two of you and his foundling?”

“Our foundling,” Cara emphasizes, “but yes, all this time.”

“Have you seen him without his helmet?” The Mandalorian was curious, and had a hard time believing they could have lived together all this time while respecting the Creed.

“No,” she answered immediately and honestly. “Never.”

“Not even once?” she asked, “even on accident?”

  
“Never. Not once,” Cara confirmed. “I will _never_ see his face, and neither will anyone else as long as I'm alive to prevent it.”

The other woman seemed convinced at Cara’s honest vehemence. “He's now your husband then?” she asked, as the next logical question.

Cara knew something along this line of questioning was likely. “Where I come from,” she said, “if you respect and treat someone as your spouse, they are, unless they object of course. We haven't had any ceremony, but I love and respect him as my husband if that's what you are asking. You're trying to ascertain if we're serious--we are.” 

“Do you _wish_ to be married?” she asked.

Cara paused to think about it before answering. “If that's what Din wants, but words don't matter to me as long as he's happy. I'll go along with whatever he wants.”

The Mandalorian woman sounds amused by her answer, “I didn't think you'd roll over so easily.”

Cara adored her choice of words and grinned at her. “Honey, I'd roll over for Din any day of the week. I might not see his _face_ but I can see the rest of him just fine.” That gets her a real laugh but then there’s just silence afterward.

As the silence stretches on, though comfortable as it is, Cara wonders what's going on in the other woman's head. Cara knows she'll never be good enough for Din, but she doesn't really want to hear this woman say he could do better.

“Do you disapprove,” she finds the courage to ask, “since I'm an outsider?” Cara felt her stomach drop as she awaited a response. She hadn't even thought about that factor. _What if the only Mandalorian that Din knew and respected said they shouldn't be together or gave him an ultimatum? What would they do then?_

Luckily, the other woman didn’t let Cara wait for long enough to let her mind run wild down that train of thought. “No. I do not disapprove,” she said. “You share loyalty and respect, you protect and raise a child together, and you likely share a bed and have proven compatible in every way that matters. You are good for him and he is good for you.” Cara nods along, agreeing with her evaluation of their compatibility. “I won’t say I wasn’t surprised when I met you the first time, but I could think of him taking no better wife now that I know you.”

“Thanks,” Cara replies lamely, oddly touched at this woman’s words. She doesn’t know what to say in response, but she feels a weight she didn’t know she had, lift off her shoulders.

“I should probably go save Din from Greef before he talks his ears off. I told him we'd switch places. Too much time with Greef one-on-one and the barrel of your own blaster starts to look pretty tasty. You know how it is….” Cara says, avoiding more emotional talk and turning the conversation back to Din.

“I do know how it is I’m afraid,” the Mandalorian said, referring to time spent with Karga and Cara’s colorful description of excessive exposure. “I'm glad to see living with Din hasn't changed you much.”

“Why mess with perfection?” she throws back at her, with a grin on her face.

Cara hears the other woman laugh and though it’s modulated, she still delights in the sound.

She picks up Bean and put him back in his wrap and heads for the door before she hears the Armorer’s voice once more.

“One day I'd like to hear the story of how he managed to convince you to leave with him again.” Cara laughs just remembering it. “I won't embarrass him by telling you what he said, but I will say he's not much better at heartfelt declarations than I am. We've gotten better at it together.”

“That's what it's about,” the Armorer says, and Cara had to admit she has good advice from time to time.

“I'll be back later, and Din should be down in a minute,” she promises. “Do me a favor will you, and ask him all sorts of personal questions to make him squirm? Last time I was here I embarrassed the hell out of myself in this room, it's his turn.”

“Of course.” 

……………………….

Cara walking in to find Din speaking with Greef

Cara enjoyed making Greef fumble looking for the key to their room and sitting around the table with him and Din with her feet propped up had been more enjoyable than she would have thought. Cara had oh so bravely saved Din from Greef and told him his fellow Mandalorian as alive and well and awaiting his visit underground. She heard his exhale and she knew he was relieved by the news. After he excused himself, Cara was left alone with Greef and prepared for the inquiry into her personal life Greef was infamous for.

“So…. you and Mando, huh? I mean _Din_ ,” he says, as he corrects himself. He would get used to using his given name with time.

"Yep. Me and Din," she said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, when it couldn't be any further from the truth. Nothing was more important to her than her and Din together, _really together_ , taking care of their kid. She knew it wasn't any of Greef's business but for some reason she almost found herself hoping for his approval. "You think it’s weird?" she asks, as she looks down at the table scrutinizing her cuticles which were suddenly very interesting. 

"No.” _Well, that was the briefest response she had ever heard from this man._

She wasn’t convinced by a long shot. “You have a weird look on your face,” she says, as she narrows her eyes at him, trying to get a better read on this usually readable man. "You don’t approve then?"

He opens his mouth to say something but obviously thinks better of it and shuts his mouth again. She can see him thinking before he speaks again. "I thought you were friends," he says as if that explains everything.

"We were,” she confirms, “……..for a while, but then something started to change…."

"This wasn't a rushed thing, then?" he asks.

She could almost laugh at how decidedly NOT rushed it had been. She shakes her head. "We were both very hesitant and abundantly cautious, almost to the point of insanity. We've been together a long time now, it wasn't something that just happened one day or one week or even over a few months.” She can't believe she's even telling him this.

Greef is uncharacteristically patient when he speaks again "Look, it's not my place to have an opinion either way; you're both adults, I just don’t want to see you get hurt. The man has some serious baggage not to mention the pile of trust issues and the fact that he’ll always put the kid first….."

"The kid _should_ come first." she argues. _Was Karga actually insinuating it would bother her that she didn’t come first before their kid?_ "You’re making this complicated where it doesn’t need to be. We care about each other, it's as simple as that."

“You're happy then?” he asks, looking away; decidedly uncomfortable with the topic. All of them were a mess when it came to any kind of sentiment. It would be funnier if she wasn’t in the middle of it.

That word still caught her off guard. She was happy, for the first time in so many years. 

“Yes, I'm actually happy.” The words still feel foreign coming from her mouth, but it’s getting easier to admit the longer she and Din are together.

Greef reminds her of how much things have changed when he says, “the last time I saw you, you wanted to smash his face in.” 

"I can't say the urge still doesn't strike me from time to time,” she says with a grin, “but this is it. It's the real deal, for both of us." He must actually see it on her face because he seems to be watching her face more than he's listening to the actual words coming out of her mouth.

"Then I'm happy for you. Both of you. You deserve a little bit of 'happy' for once," he says, and it's one of the few times she can remember him speaking without an ounce or drama or bravado. "Just do me a favor and keep you're ‘ _interpersonal activities'_ to yourselves. I don't want to see or hear any of it."

She cannot believe this ridiculous grown ass man. “One, stay out of our room then, genius; and two, did you just call sex, _'interpersonal activities'_?”

“Ugh,” he complains with his face scrunching up in over-exaggerated disgust. “Don't say that _word_.” She grins and she cannot help herself.

“What word?” she asks mock innocently. “Sex?” He knew he had made a mistake saying anything at all as her grin turned into a laugh.

“Does the word ‘sex’ bother you Greef?” she asks him again, just to be a facetious little shit. “I can't tell, is it the word 'sex' you have a problem with or just thinking about me and Din---"

"--I can't believe I actually missed you at all" he jumped in, to cut her off before she could complete that thought. I take it all back now." 

She shoves him hard in his shoulder, but not hard enough to hurt. "No take backs, but can we be done talking about my personal life like a couple of gossiping old women? How's business been?"

"It's been good, money's been steady and it's been pretty easy keeping the peace. You remember that asshole Jaken you thought was a prick? I finally fired him.”

“Thank the stars. I hated that guy,” she agrees. “He was the most incompetent, useless, waste of space.....................”

They could talk about the serious stuff later in the days to come. For now, it was nice having a chance to laugh and catch up while they could.

\------------------------------------------

Din makes it to the armorer after leaving Greef and Cara above ground to talk about whatever is it they talk about when he’s not around. He was glad to hear his old friend was still alive and well, but he wondered why she still lingered. He walked the familiar path through the now empty tunnels and avoided focusing on how much of a graveyard this space felt like now when it was once so full of life and organized chaos. He makes his way to the forge and finds the woman in question sitting there at a table waiting for him. Cara must have told her to expect him, following her departure. 

“Din Djarin,” she simply says, in greeting. Somehow, she manages to convey a whole conversation with just stating his name. Some things never change.

“It's good to see you again after so long.”

“You as well. Come in, sit down.”

He takes a seat across from her. 

“It's been some time. I hope everything is alright,” Din says sincerely. “I thought you would have long since moved on by now. Have you been well?”

“I have,” she says, and he relaxes slightly. “I had planned on moving the forge and as many supplies as I could transport to Corsuscant or a neighboring planet, but I haven't found a ship with either the cargo capacity or a pilot willing to stop in the Core Worlds with all the political upheaval going on.”

“What's on Coruscant?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him, despite the desire to let her have her privacy. “Have you heard word of a covert forming there?”

“No. On the contrary,” she says, “given its central location I had hope to send out some encrypted messages _myself_ , aiming to gather any scattered brethren there to begin again as a new covert. However, to create a new community from scratch, a functional forge is the first step.” _It made sense. She had salvaged all there was to save but could not get it to a new world to begin anew. If anyone could serve as a catalyst to foster a home to wayward Mandalorians that had been scattered by war, it would be her._

“How will you send the message?” he asks, unfamiliar with such a process.

“Simple,” she says. “Your wife helped me extend the range of the two-way scanners and I can use that to broadcast a message in our language using coded phrases. Such a populated system is the best chance of coming across any relocated Mandalorian refugees who may be harboring under the illusion they are alone. Knowing there are others out there like them looking for community will hopefully be a welcoming beacon of hope after too long apart.”

Din couldn’t help but get behind her plan, though he chose to ignore the specific word she had used to refer to Cara. The Armorer never said anything without careful planning, so he wanted to see where this was going first. He knows how to solve her problem though.

“We will transport you,” he says, “you and as many supplies as you need. You can travel with us.” She looks surprised, so Din continues. “We are likely heading to Chandrila next. It is in the Core Worlds and we have it on good authority a Jedi resides there that night have some information on our foundling.”

“That would be a most generous offer,” she admits, intrigued but not surprised at his generosity. “I don't have payment to offer you though.”

Din shakes his head and raises his hand, palm facing her. “I would not accept payment even if you had it in abundance. You have done so much for me.”

“That is truly a kind offer, but shouldn't you take time to discuss it with your wife first before changing your trajectory and lifestyle to fit a passenger.”

_There it was._ “You mean Cara?”

“Of course,” she says. “How many other wives do you have exactly?”

He chuckles. “Believe me, Cara is definitely more than enough woman, though technically she isn't my wife since we haven't said the words in Mando'a yet.” He cuts her off before she can argue, “and before you dig into my personal life which I know you are dying to do, let me say this; Cara would agree with me. She would welcome you aboard with open arms. I know she would.”

“When I hear it from her own lips, only then will I agree to it.”

“Fair enough. She will tell you the same thing I did though.”

Din’s attempt to distract her didn’t work. “As far as lips go, you know words don’t actually mean much don’t you?” she asks, though it’s not really a question so much as a statement. “Aliit ori'shya tal'din,” she says next, and it’s such a familiar feeling to hear another person speak Mando’a fluently, and such common words at that, that Din almost closes his eyes at the sound. How many times had he heard those words growing up? The other woman explains her reasoning. “If you truly believe that ‘family is more than blood,’ you must also take that to mean family is more than _words’_.”

Din nods, seeing her reasoning.

“Just an hour ago” she said, “I called you her _husband_ and she didn't correct me.”

“She didn't?” Din asked. He was both surprised and secretly thrilled to learn that.

“No, she did not. She knows it’s not words that make a marriage. A marriage is not based on words and is not based on sex; it's everything in between that matters. It's not a feeling that you feel in your chest, it's a choice you make every day. It’s sharing your great triumphs, but also wading through the everyday and the mundane. It’s the level of respect that underlies even the most heated disagreements; a balance of give and take, selfishness battling with selflessness.

“You live together, travel together, respect one another, and raise a child together. If you deem her your wife then she is your wife. The words are just that-- _words_.” He’s relieved to hear her say that because he’s called her his wife in his head for some time, afraid that he was being presumptuous. If Cara already considered them spouses, that made everything so much more perfect.

Her view of the importance of words in a relationship made him smile. “You remind me too much of _my wife_ sometimes,” he says, and hears her chuckle. _Saying that word out loud felt amazing after so long._

“In what way?” she asks.

“You both _love_ being right.”

“Perhaps we’ve just always _been_ right and have never know any other condition. Tell me, what does it feel like to be wrong? Maybe one day I'll experience it myself.” He groaned good naturedly and chuckled along with her. “I take it back; I can’t have two of you on the same ship. I’ll throw myself out the airlock.” _He was such a liar, he admitted to himself. He looked forward to having two of his favorite people by his side, especially since they had somehow become friends in his absence._

“How did you meet her?” the Armorer asked, and Din was reminded he had not spent any length of time talking to her since he met Cara. “I have never heard this story and I want to know how you ended up with someone like her.” If that sentence had been spoken differently it could have sounded insulting, but the way she spoke it--she was truly in awe he had found someone so impressive.

“She didn’t tell you?” he asked. Surely that had to come up at least once in the weeks they spent getting to know one another.

“She told me a version yes, but I want to hear yours.” “She tends to be hard on herself and focuses instead on your positive qualities. I want to know how you met and what you did to inspire such respect and affection from her.”

“She’s really something isn’t she?” The pride and affection in his voice was clear as day and his friend couldn't help but smile at the happiness he had found in the face of such adversity.

“She certainly is, so tell me how you met.”

Din starts in on the story he’d gone over time and time again in his head but had never really orated. "It seems like such a long time ago now, but it was just after I had taken the kid and run......We were looking for a quiet un-populated planet to lie-low for a while to hide in plain sight and wouldn't you know it Cara had the same idea. She came down on me like a freighter.”

"Yes," the Armorer agrees, as she nods her head. "She has a strong personality, that's for sure."

"No," he laughs. "She kicked my ass and laid me out flat on my back before I even saw her come at me. From there we just......."

................................................................

Din had finished the unlikely story of how they met and the events that got them to where they were now.

“She’s good for you,” his friend said, when he had finished his tale. “I'm glad you came back and made amends before you messed it up beyond repair.” 

“Believe me so am I,” he says. “Everything changed from that day I came back.”

While he has her sitting here and the kid isn’t scurrying around under their feet, there’s something he wants to run by her before Cara joins them once again. This is the perfect chance to get as close to an unbiased view as he can hope for.

Din’s voice is serious when he speaks to her, all humor from their previous storytelling was gone. “You have always provided me with sound advice and though I don’t want to be a burden to you, I could really use your unique perspective right now.”

“I will help you however I can. You know that,” the Armorer states assuringly.

"Cara wants to turn herself over to The New Republic and I can’t go along with it....."

\------

Over the next hour the Armorer listens as Din pours out the details of the information they've been gathering over the last year.

He explained the bounty on her head and the insanely large sum of money attached to it. He told her of their discovery of another Mandalorian in the market and his talk with Ja'ar and how a Jedi named Luke Skywalker resided within the fledgling New Republic supposedly on Chandrila. They discussed Cara's plan to use her surrender via Din as a bargaining chip to get Din access to this Jedi to learn more about Bean and how to help him going forward.

"What is your reservation?" she asks when she thinks she has all the facts.

"I can't turn her over under the guise of collecting her bounty and I can't simply watch as she surrenders herself either. It's what she wants to do, but I can't sit idly by and watch her walk away to what could be her death. I can't do it. I can't lose her. She thinks I’m being selfish and overly-protective, but I just can’t."

"Do you love her?" the other woman asks simply, knowing the answer already.

"Yes. More than anything."

"You respect her opinions? Her experiences? Her judgement?" she confirms.

"Yes, wholeheartedly." He saw where this was going and though he knew she spoke the truth he didn’t like what he knew she was about to say.

"Then if you respect her, and her choices, you cannot forbid her from doing what she believes is right. Those two things are in direct opposition of each other."

Din let his head hall forward and he rested his helmet against his hands in a combination of frustration and hopelessness.

She’s not unsympathetic to his dilemma though. "She’s your wife and you have every right to protect her at all costs, even from herself if you believe what she is doing is self-destructive, but based on what you've told me that isn't the case. As much as I hate to admit it and you hate to hear it, her idea has merit. If you can get close to this Jedi, this could be the information you need to help your foundling. The money doesn't factor into this decision at all though I'm sure she'd rest easier knowing you and your child are provided for in her absence.” The word ‘ _absence_ ’ made Din want to vomit. 

"But she's _sacrificing_ herself for him, that is the very definition of self-destructive."

"Is that not what all parents do?” the other Mandalorian asked. “She confided in me that she’s struggled with living on the run for years, having to exist in hiding and regretting how she parted ways with the Rebellion. This might bring her some peace as well."

_Din wanted her to have peace. She had given him absolutely everything--he could give her this. If everything went to plan she would be back at his side, a free woman….but if it went wrong….._

“You must let her make her choice and support it to the best of your ability. You might not understand it or agree with it, but you must.”

She thinks of an analogy that fits. “Tell me Din, when you lay dying before her, did she respect your choice though it caused her great pain or did she do what she thought would protect you and keep you safe against your wishes?”

“She did what I wanted, with no regard for herself.”

  
“She desperately wanted you to live and she still respected your choice. It worked out in your favor and I believe it might once again.”

He thinks that analogy was wildly inappropriate for their current situation. “This isn’t a life or death injury that couldn’t be avoided,” he argues. "She’s offering up herself like some sacrificial lamb and I’m supposed to walk her to the alter and hand them the knife."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation she knew Cara herself would have focused on one particular phrase and run with it. "I think she would liken herself more to a bargaining chip and less a ‘ _soft fluffy lamb_ ’. Call her a lamb to her face and let me know how it turns out for you."

He can’t help but chuckle as well at the absurdity of the suggestion and the ridiculous position they have found themselves in trying to prevent Cara from walking into a room full of people that hate her and likely running her mouth.

The Armorer has more to say about why Cara’s idea has merit at face value. "The Jedi and Mandalorians have been at war for generations and yet they are the best chance you have at learning about your child’s power and how to protect him and teach him to grow. Without a deal being made, how else do you think and Mandalorian will get within 100 feet of a Jedi who is the hero of the New Republic."

"I don’t know,” he says desperately, “maybe Cara could get close instead." _There had to be something else. He had promised Cara in the dark quiet of their bunk that he would find another way, but it looks like he lied._

"They won’t let a war-criminal get close either."

"She’s NOT a criminal,” he insists, and he couldn’t control his hands as they had slammed on the table in her defense.

‘I know she’s not. I was merely stating what they perceive her to be: a criminal and a risk to their poster child for the rebellion and the fall of the Empire.’

Din can’t help but stand up for Cara on her behalf. He learned glimpses from her of what she did during the war and it still amazed him she lived long enough to fortuitously cross paths with him after taking her life back into her own hands. “Cara helped bring down the _kriffing_ Empire just as much as that kid Skywalker, it was only in a different way.”

‘I am not disagreeing with you,” she says calmly, refusing to rise to the bait of his combative tone. "Rarely have I seen you passionate about something."

He relaxes when he notices his tense posture and combative body language.

"I apologize. I do not mean to take my frustration out on you. I appreciate your opinion and I respect your point of view."

“There’s no one else around to stand on ceremony for. I am your friend, Din--not your superior nor someone you need to impress or prove yourself to. I know you respect her. What is the real problem?”

“I can't lose her.” He says and hates how defeated his voice sounds already. “You must think me weak.”

“Your desire to protect your Clan is the furthest thing from weak. Depending on another person does not make you weak either unless you lose yourself in the process.”

“I don’t lose myself with Cara. She only makes me _better_ ; and when I can’t be better, she makes me want to try and believes in me until I achieve it. The thought of being separated from her is physically painful, but the bounty looming over her head is taking its toll on her, I can tell.”

"She's living on borrowed time with that price on her head and this approach could solve all your problems. You must respect her choice if you claim to love her unconditionally or you never really loved all of her to begin with."

Din’s heart skips a beat. Cara would love being right, but he could find no humor in anything right now. "You're saying I have to let her go." He can actually feel his heart breaking at just the thought. _How will he ever go through with it? He doesn’t think it’s physically possible, but he loves her more than he loves himself and he would find it in himself somehow to do what’s right for her._

"You have to let her do what she believes is right, believing she'll make it back to you if she promises she will." The Armorer stops to reach out and place her gloved hand over his. "I believe going along with her plan followed by an escape attempt could work in your favor with a high chance of success if you plan it right." 

He thought of all the missions Cara had planned that had succeeded whereas his seemed to go to Hell much more often than not. He thinks of her eyes for strategy and her instincts for planning and how she took down an armored walker with just a rifle and rallied a whole town of hopeless farmers to protect themselves. He can’t even help but at admit it when he says, "Cara is good at planning things like that....... but as strong as she is, she’s still just one woman."

“Don't worry,” his friend says. “She will have help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more to go for this part, and I hope it's as good as it is in my head :)  
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you have a minute :)  
> have a great day!


	3. Game Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows they’re on borrowed time before they have to make their way into the city, but there’s still so much she feels like she hasn’t said to him yet and and she’s running out of time to say it. She turns to him and swallows before speaking. "Din, I just want you to know...... that I---"
> 
> "Don't,” he cuts her off roughly. "This isn't goodbye. It can't be,” he insists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone.  
> Last chapter of this part, finally.  
> Only one left to go.
> 
> Forgive me for butchering Star Wars lore throughout. I'd be happy to be corrected about the SWU after RoTJ.  
> These are my brain's imaginings combined with Wookieepedia :)

They end up staying on Nevarro for almost three weeks. While Din's surprise trip to that forested moon had been an amazing much-needed break and the most thoughtful gesture she had ever experienced, this extended stop with friends had turned into a strangely familiar and domestic scene that took her by surprise. They had taken on a handful of jobs but only worked when the clients were away--they didn't want anyone to see Cara's face or know Din was here with the kid. It took almost the whole of the first two weeks for them to carefully disassemble the forge and package it securely in crates to transport onto the Crest. Din knew a surprising amount about how the structure was put together and he worked alongside his fellow Mandalorian taking the main heating elements and electronic components apart without damaging them. Tools were wrapped up in a green velvety fabric and stored inside the cabinets to save space during transport. The cabinetry itself was much more difficult to remove than they had planned and it took all of them working together to get it unbolted from the wall. They worked well together and divided up the rest of the labor equally between the four of them (five with the kid). The Crest would be filled from floor to ceiling, but they didn’t mind the loss of space for such an important cause.

Cara had taken on stripping many of the living quarters at the Armorer’s suggestion to spare Din the painful memories and any feelings of disrespect that might have surfaced if he had taken that task himself. Nothing was wasted, though what could be left behind was. Impersonal items such as sheets and towels and simple generic furniture were left behind to the Nevarro townspeople to use in their own homes, while any books, jewelry, weapons, and paraphernalia with any meaning to the Mandalorian culture at large or their specific clan was carefully sifted through after Cara made a first pass at the rooms. Items were moved from the private living quarters into the main hallway for the Armorer and Din to assess and judge what should come and what should go. There was a fine balance of what she would need to start over anew with a fresh slate and what should come to preserve their way of life and keep the memory of their fallen brothers and sisters alive in the new covert.

Even the kid helped out--mostly by filling boxes and crates with small unbreakable items like books and toys. They let him be in charge of the children's items and it was the cutest thing Cara had ever seen to watch him take his assigned job so seriously. He loved to help. Where a new covert took root, foundlings would appear; and the care and upbringing of children was just as important as any other aspect of the new life the Armorer would create on Coruscant.

The kid sat and stared and compared toys; holding them and examining them before choosing which ones would come and which ones would go. He must have had some strict criteria chugging away in his little fuzzy head because he was very selective in his choices. He was almost taking it too seriously for Cara's liking. “Hey,” she said, as she knelt down next to him and he looked up at her. "Why don't you take a break and _play_ with some of them too?" she asked. "I want to see how tall of a tower you can make now. I bet it’s pretty tall." He showed her his hands and turned them over, tilting his head in silent question. She understood his question by now after watching him build things for so long. "Hands or no hands, up to you," she tells him. She watched in familiar wonder as the smaller toys started stacking atop the larger ones seemingly on their own without being touched. He was really getting more confident and so much stronger than before. She was so proud of how he was flourishing under their care and encouragement. She and Din always encouraged him to use his special skill and wanted to show him they accepted his gift and found it _amazing_ and _wonderful_ \--not something to hide or fear. The only time he ever needed to hide it was in questionable company. 

Despite that one ‘ _little choking incident’_ so long ago, Cara had never been afraid of the little guy and his power. In awe of it, yes—but never afraid. Thinking logically about it she sees it differently now. Back then, he was only protecting his dad from a stronger opponent that was clearly about to break his arm as they had clasped hands on the table. The cute little alien had loved her after that, once he knew she was Din's friend and would protect him (both Din and himself) with her life. Bean had been drawn to her as soon as she returned to travel with them, even when she and Din were nothing more than fierce friends who _glimpsed_ at something more but refused to risk voicing it aloud. Bean always had a way of seeing good in people and his judgement was impeccable--if he _loved_ her and _trusted_ her then there must have been something good in her after all. Somewhere along the line, when she and Din began to blur together into something beautiful and terrifying in its promise and potential, she had come to see herself as his mother. Suddenly she protected him and cared for him out of her own love for him and not as an extension of him as Din's foundling. She loved this tiny creature as her own and protected him fiercely. 

She remembers so long ago when she had thrown herself over the tiny kid on the floor and taken a blast that would have hit him and injured her shoulder because of it. She hadn't even thought--she just acted to keep him from getting hurt. She thought only of _him_ and not of herself. She didn't think she'd ever become a mother, but Bean made it so easy. There wasn't a fear of responsibility or loss, or constant worry about disappointing him. She just loved him from a place inside her that seemed endless and yet despite its vastness there wasn't room for any doubt or fear or second guessing. Just love. 

The kid finished his important job and took turns following each of his favorite people around the rest of the day. Din enjoyed working alongside the Armorer and Cara realized had never really seen them as friends before. Her air of mentorship always made her stand apart in the Clan, but she wasn't his boss, or the clan matriarch--she was just a person like everyone else. Those in their clan had always come to her for guidance but it was nice seeing her let go of some of the responsibility she alone carried on her shoulders always being ready to mentor or teach or instruct and getting to just be....

Cara had asked her name once and she had simply said she would tell her _one day_. ‘ _Well that was that_ ,’ Cara thought. She'll find out 'one day'. The armorer did everything in her own time and that's all there was to it. Who would have thought she's grow fond of that woman with her damn quiet footsteps and riddles.....

................................

During the days, Din helped Greef around the town picking up small jobs and taking care of securing the perimeter of the city. They had holed up with the kid in one of the apartments and used that as their temporary home to avoid trekking back and forth to the Crest every night.

The mornings were spent lazily waking up in the unusually large bed compared to Din and Cara’s shared bunk aboard the ship. Bean usually fell asleep on their pillow before they moved him to his bed for sleep, but about half of the time they awoke with him at their heads anyway. If he woke up in the night, he always sought them out before settling back down to sleep at their heads.

That particular morning the kid had slept in so Din and Cara had wrapped their hands in tape and gone through some light sparring in their living space to get their blood warmed up and flowing for the day. After the third or fourth time they clambered up off the floor, they were hot and sweaty and their blood was more than warm. They made their way to the shower to clean up and work off some of their frustration from pinning each other to the ground for the last hour.

The shower like the bed was much larger than what they had become accustomed to and they didn’t take that luxury for granted as they practically ripped their clothes off in their rush to get their hands on each other under the spray of the water. Their clothes were all over the floor and the lights were turned off so the light under the door provided just enough light to see by but not enough to prevent Din’s helmet from ending up somewhere in the bathroom.

_The counter? The floor? The sink? Neither knew and neither cared._

The tape on their hands was totally soaked but neither of them noticed or were bothered by it. The friction of the wet tape actually helped him get a grip on her slippery thighs as he wrapped them around his waist to take her roughly against the wall; his lips only leaving hers to kiss and bite down her neck exactly where he knew she loved and would get her crying out in seconds. She had cackled against his mouth as he first hoisted her up and pressed her bare back against the freezing tile, but laughter was replaced with a gasp as he found the perfect angle, followed by a moan as she eased down onto him and wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on and push back against him in time with his own frantic movements. By the time they were finished, Din’s legs were shaking so hard he could barely hold them up any longer and Cara lowered her foot to the ground to stand on her own wobbly legs so they didn’t end up on the floor if they fell. They showered each other off quickly and Din let Cara finish up as he grabbed a towel and searched for his helmet to go check on the kid and get dressed.

Cara came out a few minutes later, practically glowing in pleasure and wrapped in a white towel. Seeing the red patches down her neck that were left from his mouth and the flush of excitement and arousal on her cheeks was almost enough for him to contemplate going another round if they had time. Their regular shower was barely big enough for such enjoyable pastimes, but maybe they could renovate it in the future if she always looked that satisfied after they ‘showered’ together.

“So, what’s the plan for the day?” she asks. “You going to walk the perimeter and check the cameras or what?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “One of the motion detectors mysteriously stopped working, so we’ll loo----

_She bends over to wrap another towel around her hair_

Din tries again. “So we’ll look to see if it was tampered wi---

_He watches her grab the lotion and starts to massage it into her damp legs_

“to see if it was tampered with or just had a technical---

Din tried and failed to start his sentence a second time before gives up with an exasperated huff- “I seriously can’t have this conversation with you in a towel.”

“Should I take it off?” she asks him, one side of her grin smirking up higher than the other. Her lower lip is held between her teeth, like she knows drive him insane.

“If you take it off, we’ll be having a very _different_ conversation,” he warns her.

That makes her release her lower lip as she leans into his body and smiles at him full-on, “what if I don’t want to talk at all, did you think about that?” He doesn’t know if he can possibly be up for another round this soon, but he already feels the stirrings of desire just looking at her smirking at him like that.

She lets her towel fall to the floor and steps closer to him until his hands are wrapped around her waist and she pushes against him, her skin still damp and warm from the shower.

“Again?” he asks, as he laughs at how much he wants her. “I’m not a machine, you know.” 

“Really?” she asks, not convinced. “Then why do I know just the right buttons to turn you on?” She reaches down to wrap her hand around him and much to his amazement he’s already feeling the rush of blood from his head moving south in response to her touch.

“I’m supposed to meet Greef in 10 minutes,” he argues weakly, already accepting he’s going to be late.

“Ten minutes….hmmm,” she says, pretending to mull over that number. “Nope, that’s not going to work for me. I’ll need at least twenty.” The grin on her face and the feeling of her hand has him half-hard already.

_Like he’d ever turn her down_. “Fine, back in the shower.” She grins in easy victory, and sets about removing the clothes he had just put on.

There’s no way he could get her legs hoisted around his waist again so instead they took turns pleasuring each other using every trick in the book they had to get the other one off as fast as possible.

He loved the sounds she made when she was on her knees but they were his weak spot and she knew it. As if the warm wet heat of her mouth wasn’t euphoric enough, she made these sounds— _these fucking sounds_. She knew she had him as his hands tightened in her wet hair and she doubled down on the eager moans in the back of her throat that he was so weak for to take him over the edge. She couldn’t even boast her victory though as he reversed their positions and his mouth on her took her breath away. He played dirty too and between the slippery glide of his tongue and the eager hungry sounds he made, he took her over the edge she had been balancing on ever since watching him get off.

By the time the left the shower a second time, they were practically leaning on one another to make it to bed where the collapsed on top of each other. It took them even longer than the first time to catch their breath now.

“I was supposed to meet Greef fifteen minutes ago now,” he says, as he sits up with great difficulty in search of his pants.

She rolls over and pulls the sheet over her as she gets comfortable. “Just tell him we were having the best shower-sex of our lives and he’ll let it go. In fact, he might not talk to you for the next hour. Win-win.”

“You’re the worst,” he says, in the way that always sounds like the best compliment she’s ever heard.

“You love it.”

“I do,” he says seriously, before he finds his second wind and nips at her neck as she gets comfortable and finally closes her eyes. “Come on Dune, what do you say, one more time for luck?” he proposes, as he gives up on his pants and instead climbs on top of her to kiss down her chest that had been woefully neglected during their previous rounds of lovemaking. “I’ll even let you tell Greef why I was an hour late.” She laughs and kisses him before he kisses down her chin and neck to get to her collarbones.

She threads her hands into his hair once again to encourage his path and he hears her moan out something that sounds like ‘ _stars, yes’_ , but he can’t tell if she was answering his question or reacting to his mouth finally reaching her nipple for the first time since last night.

Greef must have learned not to ask why Din was late, because she never got the chance to tease that poor man. Din spent the days doing more manual labor around town; while much to her chagrin, Cara was outnumbered by her three companions who believed she should stay hidden so no one would see her face. She didn't like it one bit, but she recognized all the work they were putting into this plan to get her and Din close to the New Republic and she didn't want all their hard work to be for nothing if her position was given away by another hunter who recognized her and compromised their element of surprise. As long as no one else knew her location, Din's offer of bringing her in would be the highest bid by default and they would hold the upper hand for negotiations.

The four of them and Bean met every night to share what their individual investigations turned up and put all the pieces together and bounce ideas around. Cara and Din were both surprised at what a shrewd negotiator Greef could be and how well-connected he was across multiple systems. He managed to get a hold of blueprints, charters, and sealed official documents they never even thought they'd be able to hack into. Some of the documents Greef presented during their nightly meetings they didn’t even know existed or or would have even known to look for. IN addition, the Armorer knew several people who lived on Chandrila and they were able to procure lists of who operated the shipping lanes and trade routes. Her contacts helped them jot down what time deliveries were made and what entrances they used for the government buildings. They learned the security at these entrances was tight but not especially high tech. 

Over the weeks, their contacts watched the comings and goings and could even tell them what time the janitorial staff arrived and left and what kind of containers were used to hold the trash on its way to the garbage mashers. The facilities engineers had the most access to the different wings of the buildings and they looked up the history of each man and woman listed on the payroll Greef was able to access for them. Near the main level of the penitentiary building that was attached to the Justice Hall, there was a large glass atrium that all three of them were instantly drawn to as a weak spot that could be exploited. Though the glass was likely shatter-resistant and not a good point to blow up to gain entry, it would be a good point to watch for surveillance and you could see every person who entered the building and what time they left or took breaks. They didn’t know exactly where Cara would be surrendered into their custody, but it was a safe bet that at some point she had to end up at the justice pavilion atrium.

"A stealth approach is better than a frontal assault,” Greef suggested, as they sat around the table one night, looking over the newest set of blueprints and city plans they had obtained. “The courthouse and the penitentiary are the most heavily guarded buildings in the middle of the city; meaning high visibility and high security."

"I agree," the Armorer said. "Though I appreciate the element of surprise that comes with a surprise assault, you require the manpower to back it up.” She looks to Din to remind him, “you going in alone is not a good plan for an extraction involving heavy artillery."

Cara looks between the two of them arguing about the best way to infiltrate a building they’ve never laid eyes on. This kind of siege preparation had been her life only a few years ago, but it was nice to see that her companions were skilled strategists too. Cara was usually the one who came up with plans, and now she was just a quarter of a team--she was surprised at how little that fact bothered her now. These people all cared about her welfare--a change she was still accepting. “We have a good idea of the prisoners’ schedules and the layout of the building. If you wait until after nightfall, you'll have the cover of darkness and the benefit of fewer staff to contend with.”

"Greef can get a hold of the manifest once Cara is entered into the system and should be able to find her holding cell rather easily." Din turns to Greef to get a read on how possible it really is. "Can you do that?"

"Yes,” Karga agrees. “I can't predict where she'll be placed, but once she’s booked, it will show up in their prisoner inventory list. I can communicate that information to you on a secure channel." 

Everyone in the room could read Din’s impatience. “How long do you think it’ll take to get her in the system and on the grid?” he asks Greef. “I don't want to wait any longer than necessary to get her out. What do you think?"

As much as they still poked fun at Greef’s skills at quantification, they knew he had spent countless nights pouring over justice records and had a good grasp of the prison workflow. He sighed heavily. "Two days minimum, and that's pushing the limit of what I’m comfortable with."

‘ _Two days_ ,’ Din thought ruefully, as a rock settled in his stomach….

That would be the longest forty-eight hours of his life and Cara would be in that horrible place on her own facing not only her own demons but countless people who hated her very existence.

"The first day all eyes will be on her,” Greef explained. “They'll be doing all the intake processing and she might not even be in her final cell location at that point. We need to wait long enough so that things settle down some. She has to be in the system and after two full days, perhaps the guards will pay less attention to her than they will on the first day when she's new. It would be helpful if there were other new arrivals around the time you plan to break in, so she’s not high-priority or especially interesting compared to the new intakes."

The Armorer chimes in and turns to Cara. "It's up to _you_ to be as nonthreatening and as uninteresting as you can so they pay as little attention to you as possible. Also, try not to fight any more than necessary so you don't end up in solitary with more security and several more doors for Din to get through."

“Though that might be better in some ways if you think about it,” Din interrupts. “Less other prisoners around, more isolated location…..”

"I'm more than happy to beat the hell out of somebody to get sent to isolation," Cara chimes in. She's more than happy to make that plan happen.

"It's risky,” Din reminds her. “Don't go down that road unless you're legitimately fighting for your life." _Din can’t even think about that scenario right now._

The armorer understands Din’s hesitation but also Cara’s eagerness to make a show of her strength. "I know you have to fight to assert your dominance and make a name for yourself so you're not targeted as weak,” she says placatingly, “but do the _minimum_ and nothing more when you're in general population. You need to be a model prisoner in the guards’ eyes, so they look past you to individuals who are the real troublemakers. By all means, assert yourself so they know not to fuck with you, but keep in mind--the less interesting you are the less they'll be watching you.”

_Cara hated it when the other woman was right, which turned out to be surprisingly often._

"I get it,” she concedes before posing her next question to Greef. “Do you _really_ think two days is enough time for things to die down. It could take _days_ before I'm not being watched like a hawk. I thought at least five days would be a safer bet." 

_Absolutely not_ , Din thinks to himself before he speaks to Cara. "I don't want to leave you there any longer than absolutely necessary. Three days _maximum_. I'll plan on _two_ and go over the schedule with Greef to see if I should proceed or wait an extra day depending on how things are looking."

Greef, ever the realist, is always thinking ahead. "If the first attempt fails for any reason you should wait at least ten days to try again."

"Agreed,” the Mandalorian woman says. “The first attempt is your best attempt, but if you can't get her, out at least you will now the interior of the building and will be better prepared ten days later.... if that doesn't work, then we'll bring in some more people......and maybe your idea of getting sent to solitary starts to look much better," she says turning to face Cara and Din. "Like you said--less people around and a more remote location."

Cara is once again humbled to be listening to her friends, her family, spending their nights helping her plan this fool’s errand which may or may not end in her imprisoned and with them no closer to helping their kid. She’s tired of running, but she doesn’t want to bring them down with her if this all goes to Hell. She didn’t think she’d ever have been able to get close to anyone ever again after how her life had played out, but she had a _kind-of-husband_ and a fuzzy green son and two friends who were as unlikely as they were loyal. If someone had told her five years ago that she would call this ridiculous found-family her own, she would have told them to have their head examined, but here they all are. She catches her thoughts drifting and as forces herself to join the present again, they're still planning and arguing and comparing notes. She overhears bits and pieces as they bicker:

“….suggesting getting in and out through the same entrance then?”

“…..steal a keycard maybe…..?”

“.......the code is easier……”

“...no……..in through an unsecured door, that’s the best wa---"

Din and Greef were arguing about the pros and cons about walking the main hallways versus taking the ventilation system, despite his armor making an absolute racket in a metal tunnel. Cara stood up and leaned over to edge of the table to get a better look at the ventilation system in question. Her companions were all relaxed sitting around the table though their voices were getting more and more raised as the night of planning went on. Maybe it was getting close to calling it a night, but they still had so much to cover to stay ahead of schedule.

They still had measurements for hallways, corridors, and specs for the prison doors to pour over. Earlier in the night they had mapped out the electrical grid and Greef and the Armorer were able to pour over schematics to determine where the breakers were for each section of the building Cara would likely be held in. Greef was writing down the measurements of the air-vents and ductwork which caused Cara to laugh out loud as she listened to the specifications and leaned closer to the data pad in the middle of the table. “I hate to ruin all your hard work guys, but there's no way my hips are going to fit through that!” she said as she laughed, “and certainly not my ass.” Din splayed his hands over her hips and playfully pulled her back to sit in his lap. “I love all of it. If the air vents were made to fit your hips, everyone would be breathing much easier.”

“I know you love it,” she said as she laughed, leaning back into him, “but you can tell me exactly how much in case I forgot.” For some reason unclear to her, Din seemed to love her hips and her thighs and every part of her he could get his hands on. Even the parts she used to be self-conscious of, he adored; and it made her look at herself differently in the mirror.

Greef groaned. " _Ughhh_. Stay focused guys."

"I _am_ focused."

"On the _plan,"_ Mando _._ "Focused on the _plan_.” Cara cackles and it makes Din want to continue to torment Greef in their game of flirtatious give and take.

“I _have_ a plan,” Din insists. “What I _plan on,_ is gettin---”

The other woman has had enough of their antics. “Honestly, the two of you are worse than a pair of hormone-ridden teenagers.” She turns her attention to Cara and addresses the woman in question to get them back on the topic at hand. "Cara, are you absolutely sure you can't think of anyone you know who might still have some pull?"

Cara sighs as she thinks of only one person she used to know. Without moving from Din’s lap she addresses the group. "I might know one person, but she probably won't remember me. Our fathers worked together, and we were several years apart in school."

“She was from Alderaan as well?” the other woman asked.

Cara nods and she’s grateful for the warm reassurance of Din’s hands on her waist whenever she has to talk about that period in her life. "She was a famed diplomat but ended up in the thick of it in the Rebellion. She ended up becoming a leader in the war despite her title, and was actually there on Endor when shit went down. But now? I don't know…..,” she says, as she runs her fingers through her hair anxiously. “She's probably involved still in the cause that meant so much to her......she might even be on Chandrila herself, but who knows."

Din reminded himself to ask her more about this woman at a later time. She seemed like a good option to keep in mind if Cara ended up going to trial if he couldn’t extract her. Another woman who had firsthand experience with the fighting and the stakes afterward when they were mopping up would be a great asset to keep in their back pocket.

…………………………..

They leave Nevarro this time each with heavy hearts knowing they will be leaving their friend behind to help from afar. The kid gnaws on Greef's finger as a method to self-soothe (a bad habit the older man had taught him). Since he was a little predator to all manner of lizards and furry spiders that called the desert home, Karga had let him chew on his finger to help him cut a tooth, but now the kid chewed on him all the time and Greef just let it happen even after the tooth had erupted; more for the kid’s emotional comfort than anything. For a man who had once been scared the little fuzzy green kid was ‘trying to eat him,’ he certainly had made a complete about-face. This place held such memories for them, and while the female Mandalorian would probably never set foot on its soil (or sand) again, Din and Cara vowed to return one day in a uncharacteristically optimistic promise that everything would work out and they could indeed visit one day soon. 

“I'm not as good with a blaster as I used to be,” Greef says to them both, “but if this goes to shit, _which I know it won’t ,_ he insists , “I can be there in a matter of days.” The trip to the Core worlds could take as little as five days if you pushed it and took the direct path, but they planned on taking the more leisurely route of two weeks to plan out the last details and enjoy time together before they parted on Coruscant.

"You've done more than enough, boss-man,” Cara said, with a lump in her throat she refused to let to the surface. “I appreciate _all_ of it, really. I might even ease up on the ‘four stormtroopers’ jokes after all this works out."

_Maybe……..though probably not._

The older man looked sad that they were leaving. Either it was that or it was sadness at what he knew she was about to walk into despite their best laid plans and backup emergency contingencies. 

"I wish you would change your mind about this, but I know you won't. You're the most stubborn person I’ve ever met” he admits, with almost a sound of pride in his voice. “…..Like a bantha.... but that would be an insult to those magnificent creatures.”

Din snorts. "See, he agrees with me." Cara savors the sound of his amusement because she knows things are going to get much less funny in a hurry once this plan gets underway.

"About which part?" Cara asks, with a smile.

"Both,” Din answers, and she goes to smack his chestplate, but the kid is watching so she decides to show self-control instead. _Setting a good example for their kid and all._

"See you around Greef,” she says, as the sun finally sets over the mountains and she can see him clearly without squinting.

"Take care, you hear?" he tells her, when it’s clear they can’t put off their departure any longer. "Not just of them," he gestures to her son and Din, "but of yourself, too."

Cara nods. "Affirmative.”

She was touched by his concern but still shakes her head at him in amusement. “You know, you worry so much you're like an old woman.”

He laughs with her. "Old women are also wise..... just like me."

“You’re ridiculous.” Cara is sad to see him go, but that’s the best she can do to voice it aloud.

He’s clearly better at this than her because he knows what to say where she doesn’t. "Come here," he says, as he gestures to her to beckon her closer. "I'm going to hug you and you are going to go along with it. No arguments."

"Fine, fine," she grumbled and complained, but embraced him equally hard. 

He’s still squeezing Cara’s shoulders as she grumbles about ‘ _stupid touchy feelings_ ,’ when he turns his attention to Din. "You text me the message we agreed upon before the shit goes down and you call to let me know it was successful after. Not that I’ll be worried or anything….."

"We will...." Din agrees, and firmly shakes hands with the man who had become his unlikely friend over time.

Greef thinks of one last thing to ask Cara about before they leave. "Chandrila can get just as sunny as Nevarro and the atmosphere isn't much thicker." Greef remembers her first days on the desert planet and how dry and chapped her skin had gotten from the intense sun. "You still have that bottle of vitamin oil I gave you?"

"Yeah, but I don't know if I'll need it since I don't plan on getting sunburned inside a building. You want it back?" She knew it was expensive as Hell, but he had generously gifted it to her way back when, when she desperately needed it.

"Nah, you keep it. It'll work on the kid's skin if it gets dry too. In a pinch it’ll even work on your blaster." 

"How about this?" she suggests, "next time I see you, I'll bring you a replacement and even top it off." 

"Deal."

The Armorer extended her hand to the former magistrate as well before they reluctantly climb the ramp. He had helped bring her supplies after Cara had left with Din and she had appreciated his assistance keeping her presence underground a secret when it didn't directly benefit himself. 

The kid reached out his little hand to Greef in farewell and the four of them climbed up the ramp together. As they lifted off, Karga waved to them until they were out of sight.

……………………………..

They traveled with the Armorer and the contents of what remained of the Nevarro covert for two weeks on their way to Coruscant. Cara and Din had been worried that things might have been awkward with a third adult on board, but to the contrary, it had been nice having the closest thing Din had to family aboard with them. 

The nights were their own and their passenger always made herself scarce on the lower level where they had setup the contents of Cara's old bunk. The space Cara’s old bunk had previously occupied was filled with boxes now and allowing for the sleeping quarters on the lower level gave the Armorer more space as well as the privacy to remove her helmet when she desired. They all knew not to climb or descend the ladder unless they announced themselves first. It worked surprisingly well.

They would actually miss her when she left. Bean loved having a third person to shower him with attention and ear-rubs and the Mandalorian woman was surprisingly good with him and he flocked to her instantly; deciding early on she was worthy of his trust. During the day when they all spent time together, they worked out and ran drills (with minimal competitiveness), threw darts, and other ordinary things that kept their minds off of the stressful situations to come.

While so many things had stayed the same, certain things were changing. The Armorer couldn’t help but overhear Din and Cara as they spoke quietly in the galley about their relationship as they made dinner one night. They spoke in hushed voices of their commitment to each other and awkwardly admitted they had been spouses for some time in all but title. After a short discussion she couldn’t quite make out, they vowed to refer to each other as _riduur_ from here on out until the end of their days. She focused on the kid in her lap to give them some semblance of privacy but it wasn’t necessary--they were totally oblivious to everything except each other as Din took his new _wife_ into his arms for the first time and she tucked her face into the warmth of his neck under the curve of his helmet. They stayed still in that embrace for a long time, stretching out their moment that was long-coming until the kid cooed in jealousy of the attention they were paying each other and they broke apart with a laugh. As insufferable as they could be, it had been a long time since she had seen two people as truly in love as they were.

They played cards after dinner every night, more often than not one-upping each other with dirty card tricks to win no matter what. Tonight, they were playing with actual rules so they kid could watch from his seat of honor in Cara’s lap. She let him hold her cards for her and had to keep tipping his little hands back to keep her cards a secret. His little face was scrunched up in concentration as he focused on Cara pointing to each card and telling him why or why it wasn’t a good choice. How much of it he actually understood was a mystery, but he seemed to enjoy the game nonetheless.

The few times they actually followed the rules of the game, the two women aboard the crest loved to tease Din to distract him. Cara looks to the other woman over her own cards held in tiny little green hands. "So, what you're saying is he could be ugly as sin under there?" Cara goaded the Mandalorian woman, when she revealed she had seen Din's face when he was just a boy. "He was a cute child,” the other woman admits, rearranging her own cards, “now though.....who knows."

She turns to Din with a smile on her face as she deals the next round of cards. "I'm still betting your face is pretty dumb."

"I have it on good authority you like my face—my beard at least." 

Cara shrugs and makes a noncommittal sound. "It's alright I guess..... maybe," she says, casually. They both knew she was lying through her teeth and it only made then both enjoy the banter even more.

Din places a card down in the pile with mock-nonchalance. “You want to stick with that answer Cara?" he asked playfully. "You seemed to like it last night when it was buried betwe---"

"Din! Oh my God, she's right there!" she exclaimed, gesturing to their companion who seemed to be enjoying the free entertainment. "And Bean!" she exclaims, as she scrambles to cover his ears but they're just too large. The kid loves this ‘ _game_ ’ and wiggles them to try to free them from her hands. He drops the cards he was holding in the struggle as she ends up tucking his head against her chest, one ear laid flat against her and the other ear covered by both of her hands. 

“Watch your mouth around the kid,” she reminds him. “I am _not_ having that conversation with him right now. He's too little.”

“He's almost 52 years old” he said, before asking incredulously, “and did YOU seriously just tell ME to watch my mouth? You, Cara- _innuendo-for-all-occasions_ -Dune?”

“I've never said an inappropriate word in my life!” she insists, and even their companion joins in the laughter at their mirth.

Cara looks to the Armorer-- her fellow woman in arms. “You going to back me up here? You know, female solidarity?”

“You created this monster my dear. Should I take him down a level with me for a few minutes so you can 'work this out'?” Bean is already lifting his arms to her in anticipation.

Din's loving this. The card game is totally forgotten.

"I'll need more than _few_ minutes, give me some credit."

"Speak for yourself, _husband_. All _I_ need is five minutes and that beard."

The helmeted woman is already on her feet, plucking a willing Bean from Cara’s lap. “That's our que to leave for the night, little one. I'll close the hatch behind me.”

They make their way to their bunk snickering the whole way. Ever since their companion joined them on the ship they’ve struggled to keep quiet at night--waiting until after lights-out to be intimate. The handful of occasions they simply couldn’t wait, they had almost made a game out of it. The one who could be the quietest was the winner and the one who couldn’t manage it was the loser--though there was never really a loser in any of their games; they both came out on top.

They had wrestled out of their clothes in the small space and lay spooned together gloriously naked without having to worry about Bean climbing into bed with them later. Din lay behind her, every inch of his front pressed against the back of her body. She was rocking back against him totally shameless in how she was turning him on and he was painfully hard grinding against her the soft skin of her backside. His hand was on her breast but as the she felt how close he was getting, she had moved it down to her thigh instead for him to get a better angle. He’s squeezing her hip and the curve of her ass as he grunts in pleasure as the pressure becomes too much. He’s not going to last, he realizes, and moves his fingers around her hip seeking out the wetness he’s desperate for so he can get her arching against him before he loses all control. She moans as soon as his fingers find their target, slippery and hot.

“You better not tease me, _husband_.”

“ _You_ better be quiet, _wife_ ,” Din says against her throat, before arching his neck to breathe hot in her ear.

“Impossible,” she moans out, as his fingers work her expertly, sinking in just enough to make her dizzy before rubbing her in tight quick circles to make her arch as he knew she would.

“This is going to be really quick if you keep moaning like that,” Din promises. _Who is he kidding? All thought of seeking out his own pleasure went out the window when she moaned like that._ He’s rubbing against her backside much less purposefully now, as all his effort and attention is focused on getting her to cry out before him. It’s a point of pride for him that he can always get her to finish first; only seeking out his own pleasure after he’s sure she’s found hers.

Cara notices his change in pace and assumes the angle just isn’t doing it for him. “You sure you can come like this, or do you need my mouth?”

“Gods,” he moans out helplessly, as he doubles the pressure and speed behind his movements at her words. She has no clue what her mouth does to him, _or maybe she knows exactly, and that’s the problem_. She raises up a few inches before reaching back to take him in her hand to reposition him. “Or maybe this instead…..”

She raises her leg to rest over his thigh and he lets out a groan as he sinks into her from behind. “I thought you said to be quiet,” she teases him, as they quickly pick up a desperate pace; all pretense of being quiet, forgotten. They’ve made love at least twice per day ever since they first lost themselves in each other on that quiet planet, but it’s like they can never get enough of each other. They had quietly ached and pined for each other for so long, they would never tire of joining together like this.

Each and every time was mind-blowing, and instead of it becoming commonplace the more they shared this new intimacy, it’s somehow just getting better- more intense even- as they lose their fear of making a misstep and just find pleasure and love in each other in every way. “I can’t be quiet when I make love to you, it’s just not possible,” he admits honestly. “No one can hear us below deck anyway.”

She wasn’t convinced and she didn't want a dirty look from their companion tomorrow. “Kiss me,” she said, and she turned her head so his mouth could cover hers. She swallowed his moans until his hand reached around again to finish what he started, rubbing her in such a perfect rhythm that she couldn’t prevent the tidal wave that crashed over her as they both saw stars for the first time that night.

As they got closer to the Core Worlds, they continued to discuss the plan for Cara's surrender and multiple options for escape while they still had the other Mandalorian on board to offer another perspective. From Nevarro, Greef had helped remotely pull up plans for the various justice and penitentiary holding building in the Justice Pavilion on Chandrila and they studied them intently; looking for weaknesses, exits, and attack points. Every piece of duct-work was thoroughly poured over and the Armorer was very detail-oriented and a good strategist. The three of them actually came up with several contingency plans and examined the profiles of the staff that worked there as well. This asshole Rycell looked like a spoiled rick-kid whose daddy bought him a high-ranking position and Din hoped it was an old picture because there's no way someone who appeared that _weak_ was in charge of war-criminal justice. Cara could snap him in two, and he felt a small feeling of relief knowing that at least this man they would meet couldn't physically overpower her. 

The closer they reached to their destination they had all agreed it was finally time to reach out to this asshole and see what kind of zealous prick they were dealing with. Din had reached out to the contact number on Cara’s puck and waited to see how long it would take to hear something in reply. Much to Din’s chagrin, he got back to them immediately and delivered his private number for further correspondence.

“Make him wait,” the Armorer had said, sagely. “Don’t answer immediately and reach out to him the next day so he knows you don’t _jump_ when he says ‘ _jump’_.”

They all went over what Din would say and what he would choose to leave out. “Set the terms,” his friend reminded him. “You hold the cards and that puts you in a position to make demands.”

Cara agreed. “He’s desperate and you are the key access to something he wants. He’ll push back, but you have the upper hand--use it.”

Din wanted to push back at Cara referring to herself as ‘ _something_ ,’ but that battle could be fought later, in private.

With the three of them sitting in the cockpit after Bean had gone to bed, Din finally hailed The New Republic contact back and was patched through to this idiot Rycell. The trap was set. Din stated his terms: Cara would be handed over for the sum previously agreed upon and Rycell and his people agreed that Din would meet with the famed Skywalker for one hour in return for bringing in the bounty sitting to his left that was so valuable to the Military Justice department. Din wanted to threaten them what would happen if they reneged on their promise or double-crossed him, but he also wanted them to underestimate him as just another dumb bounty hunter wanting to get paid and meet a famous face. The time and location were agreed upon and Din received a one-way encrypted message from Skywalker himself to confirm their meeting. From the sound of it, he had no clue about the exchange of ' _prisoner_ ' behind the scenes, and approached this like any other meeting on his schedule.

“I have one final demand,” Din added, after the other terms had been agreed upon.

“I'll turn her over for _imprisonment_ , but not death--I don’t agree with killing as a form of justice. I need your guarantee she isn't to be executed upon delivery.”

Rycell paused but didn’t deny it outright. “Before I agree to that, I want a visual.”

Din paused before acquiescing as he noticed Cara hand a pen to their female companion. The armored woman at his side passed him a note with the word ‘ _why?_ ’ written on it.

Din voices her question aloud. “Why do you care what I look like?”

“Prove you’re real, the Republic officer said, “not a recording.”. He further explained, “I want to know you’re not Cara Dune herself using a voice-altering device.”

This guy was both dumb and paranoid.

“You really think a woman would be smart enough to put a trap like that together?” Din asked, trying to ingratiate himself with this man who didn’t think very highly of Cara. Din knew better than to look to his right or his left after the words left his mouth even though he was clearly playing a part. 

“Good point, but she’s crafty—you never know.”

Din huffs out a sigh. “Fine, send me the link and stand by while I open a channel.” There was a benefit to this surprise request--they get to see _his_ face too. Both women shift forward near the control panel to be sure they are out of sight for the call to open.

The channel opens and Rycell seems genuinely surprised as he looks at the ‘face’ of the hunter who captured his bounty. “A Mandalorian!?” he says, in wonder. “I've never seen one of your kind before. Figures it took one of your caliber to take her down…..” He chuckles, and Din wants to smash his stupid face in. In front of him and off to the side, Cara is tense as the studies this stranger’s face looking for any sign she might recognize him.

“What made you take the job?” Rycell asks, knowing how rare Mandalorians are these days and the relatively few number of pucks that went out for her bounty.

“Are you kidding me? It’s more money than I’ve ever seen. I’d be a fool not to.”

"Did she come quietly?" 

"What do _you_ think?" Din responded. He would not look to Cara for the smirk he knew was gracing her face right now. _Why look when he already knew it was there and it would only distract him._

"Is she injured badly,” Rycell follows up asking about her state after her capture.

“No,” Din answers simply.

“Disfigured?”

“No.”

"As beautiful as they say?"

"I wasn't really looking at her face, just the payday you promised."

"It’s not just her face, so I hear. You have any fun with her? I wouldn't knock anything off the price if you did.” At that question, Din’s blood ran cold.

“She's untouched,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Usually clients don’t want their merchandise handled too roughly.”

"How'd you manage to capture her?"

"I got the jump on her outside some backwater cantina,” Din says, in a version of their original meeting with the positions reversed. “She put up a fight, but it was her husband who was even more pissed when I carted her off.” He felt Cara’s eyes on him from the vicinity of the control panel as he ad libbed this part of the story.

“She’s married? No shit?!” He sounded genuinely surprised she wasn’t living on her own. ‘ _Good_ ,’ Din thought to himself. Din wanted this asshat to know she had been _living_ , not just living in fear all this time. Their contact laughed. “What poor bastard did she trick into thinking she's _wife_ material? That bitch is a sociopath and a killer, not once ounce of humanity in her. Did you ever hear what she did at the battle of Cawa City or that shitshow in Monument plaza?”

“I was there for a job, not to listen to gossip,” Din said. _Of course, he knew what had gone down. Cara had told him everything, even the parts she felt painted her in a horrible light. They didn’t have secrets from one another._

“You tell her husband who she is? Is he coming after her?”

“He knows _exactly_ who she is. Real jealous asshole who wants you dead, but he won’t be a problem.”

“You took care of him?

“Yeah, that one was a freebie. You won’t ever see him coming for you.” _Din could guarantee that. It’s been a long time since he enjoyed hunting someone as much as he would enjoy coming after this man on the video screen._

“Okay, sounds like we have a deal then. I’ll send you the coordin-” Rycell said, eager to move this along before Din cut him off.

“Not so fast, you haven’t agreed to my last term.” Din wasn’t stupid and wouldn’t agree to anything without at least a verbal promise of her safety. “I watched her save a child from getting shot and took the blast herself. I don't kill bounties and certainly not ones who save little kids. If you're just going to kill her, I'll turn her over to the Imperial Remnant that’s offering 15% more than you are and already guaranteed to keep her alive.”

"Done." Their contact agreed over the video screen. "She's not up for execution, just imprisonment."

"We have a deal then,” Din said and felt a knot in his stomach. "Where do bring this delivery?"

Rycell spoke again to warn of the danger of transporting this particular bounty. “Don't let what you saw with that kid fool you. You still have to transport her successfully to collect your payday. She'll snap your neck in a second if you turn your back.”

“She won't give me any trouble,” Din argues, confidently.

“She's dangerous,” Rycell insists. “I’d hate for her to slip away and you be without your reward.”

“She's frozen,” Din clarifies. “The freezing process is virtually harmless—but it was the only way to get her to shut her mouth.” 

He hears laughter over their connection before the sound of typing. “I'll send you the details now. Stand by, signing off.” The connection was terminated and a few seconds later the transmission with the details came through.

Knowing the location of the surrender and meeting place was immensely helpful as they could now survey the area ahead of time and look for escape routes if necessary. The Hall for Military Justice (known as the locals as the Justice Hall) was at the end of a long green promenade in the city center and flanked on one side by the prison itself and a hospital for veterans on the other. Moving outward, there were other medical buildings and administrative government offices. Din was relieved there were no playgrounds, parks, or schools nearby in case this got ugly. The only downside was agreeing to an exact time of their meeting. It didn’t give them much wiggle room or time to explore the city ahead of time.

A couple of minutes go by in silence in the cabin after the connection is terminated.

“You know his word doesn’t mean anything right?” Cara asks him, wanting to make sure Din didn’t take his promise too seriously.

“I know, but at least it’s something. They plan to put you on trial; that’s a good thing. I’ll take that over a blaster to your head any day.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think they’d make a show of executing me in public.”

Cara continues. “They spout this self-righteous crap about being better than the old regime: they don't torture, they don't take hostages, and they don't execute prisoners or endorse capital punishment. I don’t think they'd publicly execute me. Too flashy—too _Imperial_.”

Din wasn’t just concerned with that. She could be killed in prison after only twenty minutes in their custody and he wouldn’t even know.

Cara is still thinking aloud. “I’d like to think they'd keep me alive to use as an example of their reach and power. They want to show that no one is above the law and no one is safe from their reach.” She sighs. “Don't get me wrong, they've done a lot of good compared to the Empire, but I've seen the other side of them and that's what they don't like. I’m one of the few alive that saw the Republic who wanted things cleaned up behind closed doors so the public just saw the beautiful picture and not the sweat and tears of the artist responsible. They've limited their own power though which is a move in the right direction and they're eager to show acceptance of Imperial officers’ children and other innocents and those to claim to be reformed. The rebellion was built on hope and second chances and now they have to put their money where their mouth is.”

“Where was your second chance then?” Din asks.

 _‘Good question,’_ she thinks. _She didn’t have an answer for that._

She changes the subject. “I'm honestly surprised they put so much time and energy and money into finding me after so long.”

The other woman chimes in. “This individual must have some personal grudge against you.”

Din’s thought about this too. “That doesn't bode well for you if he has personal vendetta.”

The armorer asks Cara, “did you recognize his face at all?”

“No, but he’s probably the son of an Imperial officer.” She tried as hard as she could to place his features, to no avail.

“What?" Din asks, more than a little shocked. “How could they not know his parentage if he made it up the ranks?”

Cara huffed a laugh. “They definitely know,” she tried to explain. “Like I said, the Rebellion as it transformed into the New Republic prided itself on accepting “innocent” children of the war including children of Imperial officers. They couldn’t charge the children with war crimes of their parents, so they made a big show of treating them as unwitting victims and welcoming them with open arms. They believe in rehabilitation of those children of Imperial officers and I’d bet my favorite blaster he falls into that category.”

Din knows they’ve gone over this, but he has to ask again. Maybe they missed something. “Are you absolutely sure you don't have any old contacts you could reach out to in the justice system?”

“Not really,” Cara says. “I mean, I knew Senator Organa from way back, but they wouldn't let me close to her now and I wouldn't even know how to reach out to her anymore if I had the chance. She was from Alderaan too, though.” She refuses to get emotionally sidetracked thinking about her home. “We were _friends,_ Leia and I, and when there were so few women in the rebellion and even fewer on the front lines, she supported me. Maybe she would put in a good word for me, but I don't know anymore……..people change and she might not even remember me.”

"You were a hero to people, I know you were,” Din insists. “You could garner public support or even make friends with the guards who are our age and remember those days where dropper missions made or broke the war effort." The Armorer nods her head with Din's assessment. “We can go over their profiles again to look at their ages and planets of origin to see who might be the best candidates to try to get close to." 

Din had been so focused on Cara he almost forgot the smallest member of his family that this mission was centered on. “How do I hide Bean? Do I bring him with us?” Before Cara could answer in horror at his suggestion, the Armorer answered for her. “I wouldn't bring him, no,” she said calmly. “It would be traumatizing for him, not to mention another weak spot they could exploit. Don’t bring him for the hand-off, only bring him when you meet with this Jedi.”

They’ve all had more than enough of this conversation for one night. Din just wants to go to bed and lose himself in Cara until they both fall asleep tangled together. Cara picks up the kid and walks for their bunk, but before the Armorer heads for the ladder she speaks quietly to Din. “Don't forget this--they might not hesitate to hurt a woman, but they might hesitate to hurt an innocent baby. Think about that,” she says with meaning, before she heads off to bed.

‘ _What did she mean?_ ’ Din thought, as he turned over her words in his head. _She never said anything without some meaning behind it so what was she trying to suggest? Cara would never use Bean as a shield so that couldn’t be it._

 _Was she suggesting they use Bean and his power to take out the guards? That couldn’t be it. She cared for the kid too, so he had a hard time accepting she would even consider that as an option._ He’ll think about it tomorrow. Right now, his wife was getting undressed for bed and waiting for him to join her.

………………………………

They touch down on Coruscant and they spend another two weeks once they land unloading the forge and setting it up under the cover of darkness in the home of what will hopefully flourish into a new Mandalorian covert. The Armorer was surprised that her companions spent so much time not only unloading all the delicate equipment, but also unloading all of the supplies and furnishings for the living accommodations. It wasn’t even a half an hour into unloading crates when Cara unexpectedly sat down, catching Din’s eye. Din knew better than to make a big deal of it, but as he walked by her, he made sure she was alright. “I’m fine,” she insisted, clearly frustrated at showing weakness. “I just can’t catch my breath but I’m fine.” After a few minutes passed, she was up and at it again, but he watched her much more closely the rest of the day. Two other times she sat down while he was watching but she only rested for a minute each time, so Din convinced himself not to worry. They were all under stress and it manifested differently in different people.

The two weeks planet-side went by too fast for all parties involved. Everything had been unloaded and set up in the new space and they all worked together to get things situated before Cara, Din, and the little guy took off for the last leg of their journey to Chandrila. They didn’t want this time to be over because of what they knew would be coming next.

The day finally arrived for them to part ways. “Anytime you need something, you call us—me, or Cara, or both. If you need help, you’ll have it.”

The Armorer, their friend, reciprocated the sentiment. “The same can be said for you Din, and your wife. If your first attempt isn't successful, you contact me and I will be there in time for your second,” she promised. “The contacts who live on Chandrila who helped feed us information will likely help as well.” 

“Take care,” the woman says, as she addresses Din. They touch helmets together briefly before she grasps forearms with Cara next. “Things will work out; I am sure of it.”

“Ret'urcye mhi,” Cara says, to her female friend.

“K'oyacyi,” Din says, and hears the only known remaining member of his Clan respond, “and you stay safe, all of you.”

……………………………..

A day away

Din had been trying to keep his negative thoughts to himself but seeing her so tired and stressed about what situation she was walking into got to him. She was sleeping so much lately since they landed on Coruscant and it was putting him on edge especially since they were in the air and only a day away from Chandrila now.

It finally reached a boiling point when he watched her barely able to get out of the bunk to watch their approach from the cockpit. The worry and the stress over the situation, combined with watching her not at her best (knowing what they were walking into needed her in peak form), pushed him to speak what he had been trying to hold in for too long. They were only a day away now and it was finally real. They were actually doing this.

“You’re _really_ going to just walk away from us? From me?” he says harshly, as he watches her staring out the viewport; she’s tired despite sleeping so much and has bags under her eyes.

“I could never walk away from you, Din,” she replies. “I just want to walk toward a better chance for him. I know my past doesn’t matter to you and I thought it didn’t matter to me either--but it does. One day the kid might start talking or hear rumors and what am I supposed to say when he asks me why I executed 300 Imperial troops in Cawa City after the delegate I was protecting was already secure and the enemy had already surrendered? I ran after that day you know. I realized the monster I was becoming, and I ran to try to escape myself. How do I explain _that_ to our kid knowing I never even attempted to make amends? I want to find peace so I can truly put the past behind me and focus on the future, _our future_ , with a clean conscience. The cherry on top of this shitty situation is that you get access to an elusive Jedi that might be able to help our kid.”

He feels like an asshole for putting his worry and stress on her already weighted shoulders. “I want you to find peace, Cara, I do. I just don’t want to lose you in the process. I’m going along with this, because I respect you and your choice to do what is right in your eyes, but that’s the only reason. I don’t think this is the answer, but I want you to be happy.”

She’s known Din loved her for quite some time, but this was more than just love. He was willing to give up what he thought was his chance at happiness just for her to have peace. ‘ _He really loved her, but he respected her even more,’_ she thought to herself. She hoped he wasn’t thinking of backing out last minute like she secretly though about in the dead of night when she realized the whole _world_ she would be losing if this didn’t go in their favor. “You’d really let me walk into the New Republic headquarters with my hands in binders as a political prisoner if I told you that’s what I thought was right? Just because you love me?”

“No, I wouldn’t _let_ you walk there, I would walk you there _myself_ ,” he corrects her. “I wouldn’t let you go alone. I’d be there with you.

“Whatever happens, I’ll be there with you Cara. Bean will be in the ship should the worst happen, but I won’t leave your side I swear it.” He’s so honest and sincere she can’t help but be comforted by his steadfast dedication to her. “I’ll be there when they take you into custody, there for your judgment, and there for your sentence--though it won’t come to that. I’ll be there until the very last second they drag you away and I won’t give up until you are free and back with us.”

“Thank you,” she says, touched by his words. They don’t always speak freely like this so when they do it catches her attention. Their language has always been teasing and joking and brutal honesty; but laying their _emotions_ out on the table was something they were just learning to do well. They had gotten plenty of practice lately though—the leaps and strides they had made over the past year were testament to that. “Despite what I may project,” she says honestly, “this whole thing is terrifying. It’s less scary knowing you’ll be at my side. After this is over, I definitely owe you one.”

He laughs at that.

“You’ll owe me like a hundred,” he says, holding her hand tightly in his.

“That’s one debt I don’t mind paying. It might take my whole life though, fifty years at least.”

“I’m counting on it.” Fifty years of her at his side living in blissful peace sounds amazing.

Six hours left before landing

The kid has long since fallen asleep, but Cara has been holding him for hours just looking at his peaceful face. He’s known something was up and had been especially clingy the past few days. He could probably sense their stress and their worry through his gift. She’s trying to memorize every little detail no matter how small. She focuses on the shape and position of Bean’s ears when he’s relaxed in sleep. She lets her eyes pour over the size of his little hand in hers and the little snuffling sounds he makes when he snores.

Din must have snuck up behind her because she hears him speak. “You can put him down in his bed now; he’s good and asleep.”

“I know, but I like holding him.”

“You’re going to spoil him you know,” Dins warns her playfully. “Actually, it’s already too late for that.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said guiltily, but he _should_ be spoiled,” she argues on his behalf. “He should have attention poured on him all the time.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

She doesn’t want to bring it up to Din why she won’t put him down, but she’s trying to memorize the fuzzy texture of the wrinkles on his forehead. She’s been memorizing the color of his dark eyes so she can perfectly recreate it in her mind at will, just in case. She’s done the same with Din, when he sleeps. She finds herself cataloging everything she would want to remember if she never saw him again. The feel of his beard, the feel of his hand in hers, the thickness of his hair and how it curls at his ears. She’s cataloged the warm skin at his neck and the softness of his lips and the sound of his voice when he takes of the helmet at night. She’ll remember what it feels like to be held in his arms, what it feels like to laugh together until they can barely breathe, and the sound of his humor-filled sighs when she says something insufferable. She recalls the first time he had told her he loved her and the first time he kissed her in the cockpit after braiding her hair so long ago. She remembers the acceptance and joy she had found in him and how it had transformed her at one of the worst times in her life.

She finds that other things are harder to memorize and recall as easily. ‘ _How do you remember love?_’ She thinks. She can remember his smell and the shape of the freckle on his hand and the little dent in the Beskar at his chin…but how can she remember what _family_ feels like in a discreet way to package it and store it away for darker days when she might not have it anymore? 

Din’s not oblivious--she’s not as secretive as she thinks. He watches her walk around the Crest, casually touching things and he knows what’s going on in her head. She’s trying to memorize everything and he understood the sentiment. He had a verbal guarantee he wasn’t bringing her to her execution but that meant absolutely fuck-all. ‘ _He can’t lose her,_ ’ he thinks. She’s his whole life--her and the kid. What would he do without her filling his space, his life, and his heart? He thinks of her smile and how he could picture it so clearly in his mind. He can’t imagine going even _two_ _days_ without hearing her laugh and feeling her warm comforting arms around him at night. Her taste and her smell has become so much a part of him, he’s worried maybe he’s taken it for granted as he struggles to recreate it as a finite memory to hold onto.

…………………………

They're getting close enough they can see the blue hue of the planet off in the distance. They only have a handful of hours left until they request permission to land and break atmosphere. Din's looking for any possible delay, but he knows they already have prior authorization to land and they are expected as 1400 hours. 

They should really be sleeping or getting affairs in order, but he can't stop touching her. They're no stranger to desperate, but this is another kind of desperate. They’re lying in bed in a tangled pile of naked limbs--so _together_ , it’s hard to tell who’s underneath who. They’ve spent the entire morning wrapped in each other, making love much more tenderly than usual. Gone was the playful tussling and hungry kisses and lovebites. Instead it was replaced with deep passionate kisses and greedy hands mapping each inch of exposed skin with the reverence reminiscent of the first time they lay together like this. He savored every sound and every sigh; every taste of her sweaty skin; the feel of his face buried in her hair and the taste of her mouth. The feel and play of the muscles in her thighs around his hips. He made love to her now like he could pour every ounce of love and desire and worship he had for her into his movements. They were growing tired, but they wouldn’t sleep.

They had less than four hours now.

She kisses him softly as she rolls to face him, so deep and so full of emotion he can taste it. “Make love to me one las—” she tries to say, before he cuts her off sharply.

“Don't you dare say ‘ _one last time_ ,’ don’t you dare.” He ran his hand down the side of her face wishing more than ever before that he could look in her eyes just once. That she could see him as he told her loved her, as he showed her with his body as they made love.

"I can't sleep,” she admits. “It's strange, I've been so tired lately.”

“I know.” He’s been watching and quietly worrying so as not to upset her.

"I don't want to go to sleep now, in case it's the last time we get together for a while." She couldn't bring herself to think the word ' _ever_ '. 

"I promise you, I'll get you out of this,” he says solemnly. “I'll clear your name no matter what it takes."

"It'll just be a couple of days until I'm back here again,” she says confidently. 

"You'll be home sooner than you think."

"We have a plan and we're in this together. We're a hell of a team--we always have been. It'll be okay." She doesn’t like the worried tone in his voice. She wants to hear him smile again.

She smirks at him in the dark so he can hear it even if he can’t see it.

“One _more time_ then?” she asks, using slightly different words.

“Okay, one more time, I can do that.”

They make love a final time, and if their cheeks are suspiciously wet neither one of them mentions it.

Afterwards, they are laying together in their final moments before they have to get up and face the music. Din speaks just as she is dozing off. "Do you remember the first time?"

"Of course,” she chuckles, as she wraps her arms tighter around his sweaty back. “It was only two months ago. What? It wasn’t that memorable for you?” she teases. “You need a refresher?"

Din laughs at that. "If I have a ‘ _refresher_ ’ my legs will be like jelly. But no, that’s not what I meant."

"What do you mean then?" she asks, so she knows how to answer.

“The first time you felt like _this_ ,” he clarifies, though it’s still not very specific.

“ _This_ meaning what?” she asks. “Warm, happy, _loved_?”

“Something like that,” he said. “When did you know you loved me?”

“Sorgan,” she says automatically, like she had thought about the answer to that question more than once. “I can’t pinpoint a moment. It was everything. It was somewhere between the days together in the forest and the nights on the porch. It was the way we were so in sync it felt like I had known you forever.

“I knew I loved you then and it scared the Hell out of me but I knew what _kind_ of love it really was on Nevarro when it felt like my world was ending watching you fade away. I would have given up my life in a heartbeat if it meant you could have gotten to your feet.”

“It’s funny,” he says in return. “It’s almost the exact same for me. You made me laugh for the first time in years in that krill farming village. I didn’t think I even had it in me but there you were. When I left in the cart and it felt like I was leaving the best part of me behind was when I knew. And then when I saw you again.....there was no question.

“When you held my hand and told me you wouldn't leave me. I couldn't deny it anymore....”

Cara interrupts him as it sounds like a final conversation she doesn’t want to have. “I don't want to talk about that horrible day. We have hours left together before we put our plan into action and I want to be happy. I will say this _though_ , because I've wanted to say it for months.

She takes a deep breath before continuing as serious as he’s ever heard her.

“I’m sorry I wasted so much time, Din. We could have had this for so much longer if I wasn’t such a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” he responds vehemently, “and I wouldn’t change a single day. Could have, would have, should have doesn’t do anything for us now. What matters is that we found each other and we’re together. The past year and a half have been the best of my life and it’s because of you, _riduur_.

She gets comfortable against his chest as they quiet down and try to finally get some sleep. She always mumbles nonsense as she's falling asleep and Din finds it just as amusing as he did the first time. “If I’m gone more than 2 days, will you think about me?”

“You’re force of nature Cara Dune and you have taken over every aspect of my life. I’ll think about you every second until you’re safe back with us, where you belong.” Ever since he met this woman she was all he could think about. Her strength, her body, her spirit--he'd been a goner since she came down on him so hard in the dirt.

“Me too,” she says, barely awake as her eyes drift closed in the warm safety of his embrace. Their sheets are warm and comfortable and her side of the pillow has shaped perfectly to her head over time.

"You should rest now” Din insists against the top of her head, mumbling into her hair. “You don't know what the conditions will be like and if you'll be able to sleep once we get there."

A voice in his head kept warning him over and over not to be fooled by their promise and not to be complacent with Cara's optimism. He had to tell himself over and over again ‘they couldn't execute her’. He had to believe that, or he could never go through with this plan. That was his nightmare that he had fought through more nights than he cared to remember--that this was all a trap to get her close and take her out. In his dream he never got a chance to break her out of prison because they either killed her on the spot or shipped her off to an undisclosed location to be executed away from prying eyes and he couldn’t get to her in time.

Din shook his head and forced those thoughts away. This was their last time together and he would be damned if he let a nightmare ruin these precious moments. As he fell asleep beside her, he willed himself to dream of the better times to come, when this was all over and these stressful days were just a memory they looked back on an laughed over.

They land on the outskirts of Chandrila and Din takes the longest time he’s ever taken running through the landing sequence. Everything is in slow motion as he tries to put off reality just a few minutes longer.

Cara is sitting beside him in the cockpit in _her_ chair and she’s staring off into the distance but not really seeing anything. She knows they’re on borrowed time before they have to make their way into the city, but there’s still so much she feels like she hasn’t said to him yet and and she’s running out of time to say it. She turns to him and swallows before speaking. "Din, I just want you to know...... that I---"

"Don't,” he cuts her off roughly. "This isn't goodbye. It can't be,” he insists. "We _just_ found each other. A year isn't nearly enough. I haven't even called you my wife but a handful of times."

"Every time you say it it's like the first time. My stomach still does this weird thing."

_Her stomach had been doing weird things a lot lately. She couldn’t even get down breakfast this morning. Stress was such a bitch._

He wanted nothing more than to call her his wife in front of the people they were about to encounter but they had talked about it and decided it was better not to give that particular detail away.

It was a risk to give away anything personal that could be used against them. Rycell and his compatriots still thought it was all just about money and scheduling a meeting, and as of now they don't have anything else over Cara or Din. Cara had described her desire to show these assholes that she was happy and there was nothing they could do to change that it, but challenging them seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Cara knew that despite The Republic’s best efforts she went on to live a life that anyone would be jealous of. They wanted her to live in fear and she didn't; they wanted her to be on the run alone, and she wasn’t; they wanted her to believe that without them she had no one, but she gained everything instead. The wanted to rub it in their faces but she and Din decided it was best not to tempt fate by flaunting the happiness they had found in each other.

"It can't be the end,” Din repeats. “I know,” she says. “I'm optimistic--I am. I could be back here in two days’ time; but no matter what happens I'll never regret telling you one more time what meeting you and getting to love you has meant to me. You loved me when I was anything but lovable and you saw value in me when I thought I was worthless. You saw beauty in me when my soul was ugly and tarnished. You and the kid saw good in me when everyone else just saw this monster. You gave me the most amazing gift. This family.....”

She couldn’t say anymore. She had to swallow again to keep herself together. She didn’t want to leave this man.

Hearing the emotion and the finality in her voice pushes Din to make a decision he would never make lightly, but has never seemed more right than in this moment.

The room is bright when Din lifts his hands to remove his helmet, but Cara is faster and stops him with a force that makes him chuckle. “Din! What are you doing?”

His answer is simple. “I can't let you go to this uncertain fate without you seeing me just _once_. If the worst should happen, I can't live with myself knowing you never even saw me.”

“I see you Din,” she insists. “I do. I see you everyday.” She places her hands on either side of his helmet, where the metal slopes in over his cheeks. “You aren't breaking your creed for me. Not now, and not ever, so don’t be a dumbass.”

“I don’t have to know that I broke it,” he reasons with her. “I’ll leave it off for a while when we’re getting ready and you can accidentally see me and I'll never know.”

She shakes her head hard at his suggestion. “That's dishonest and that’s not _you_. That’s not the honorable man I grew to know and love.”

“Cara, just once, let me—”

“No,” she says more firmly. “I'll go the rest of my life knowing your face as I do now. If you ever choose you remove the helmet, it will be because you've given up this life after long and thoughtful consideration, not as a gut reaction to a shitty day that might not be as bad as we think. Once things are back to normal, you’d regret it and I’d never forgive myself.”

She realizes that he didn’t think today would work out in their favor. He somehow just _knew_ it would end badly--She could read it in his body language.

“Listen to me,” she says seriously. “If it goes bad, I don't want you doing anything stupid or heroic. You _run_ and get our boy as far from the New Republic as you can, and you don't look back. If this _is_ a trap like you fear, you have to be ready to get him to safety and leave me to take care of myself.”

“I don't know if I can do that,” he admits honestly, even though he knows it will disappoint her. He didn't want to burden her anymore, but he was being honest. He didn’t think he had it in him to abandon her to a terrible fate, even for the sake of their kid.

“You can,” she encourages him. “For me, but more for _Bean_. That's what all this is for--for him.”

“What if I can't break you out and you can't escape?” He finally voices his fear aloud that he didn’t want her to know haunted him. This was it. They were out of time. He simply couldn’t keep inside him anymore.

Every night they told each other pretty lies about how easy it would be to escape. They downplayed the intelligence and resourcefulness of the leaders of the burgeoning government but a lot of it was false--there was absolutely no guarantee. They could ship her off to a prison colony somewhere or execute her on site, despite their promises of mercy. Their defenses might be impenetrable to Din and even their friends and Mandalorian contacts. 

“Then I'll pay my debt to society and sleep easy at night knowing you and Bean are out there safe as he learns about his power. You'll rest easy too knowing you 'll didn't let me down; you let me make this choice.”

She clears her throat as she puts on a brave face for both of their sakes. “I don't know why we're taking about the worst case scenario right now. We've planned as well as we can, Din. It will be okay, you'll see.”

She never lied to him before, which was what made the waiver in her voice that much more alarming to his ears.

Din braided her hair before they got dressed for the day they had been dreading for weeks. He was meticulous in its creation, taking it out several times and re-doing it when he didn’t think it was good enough. He really just wanted to delay this as long as possible--to keep his hands in her hair and her head on his lap. He’d been braiding her hair every single day for months and he was maybe better at it than her at this point. Today he had braided it twice in what she had told him was the style worn by women who were married and otherwise off the market. He created a larger braid in the regular spot, accompanied by a smaller braid underneath; the two were braided together at the halfway point and continued together in a single plait to the back of her head where it was pinned down. Cara had several beads that she held among her few belonging from before she met him, and she had asked him to weave one onto the end of her hair to symbolize Bean as part of their family. Din had been hesitant because he knew this was one of her few prized possessions from her homeworld and as soon as the was taken into custody she would be stripped of all her belongings, unlikely to ever see them again. Cara insisted that the symbolism meant more than the bead itself, but Din was still hesitant to send her in with something they would forcefully take from her when she was forced to shower and surrender her clothes.

Instead, Din took a piece from the kid's earliest pram they had in storage and cut out a small piece of black plastic lining. He spent the remaining hour filing it down until it was spherical and bored a small hole into it to create a very small, very discrete, black bead. It would blend perfectly into the darkness of her hair and though they would still remove it upon close inspection, at least it wasn't of any true value like her other beads; though just as meaningful. He explained it to her as he presented her with it. “It from his bed, before he slept with us. It was his shield that kept him safe. It gave him comfort and kept him warm. Everything that it represented is whatyou are to him now. You keep him safe, and you comfort him and you keep him warm. You can carry that with you…….”

He took out the bottom portion of her hair, weaved in the new bead, and re-braided it until he was happy with it’s appearance.

They dress quietly and Cara chooses her least favorite pants and one of her white shirts that she hates. The Republic can keep the stupid white shirt for all she cares--she won’t sacrifice one of her favorite black ones. She helps Din don his padded shirt, flak vest, and assists him in attaching each piece of armor to his person, much more meticulously that she ever had before. Their ritual armor inspection is one-sided this time as she’s in her soft clothes, but she looks over each inch of his armor and check the integrity as thoroughly as she can. She tugs on each plate and thumps hard on them to ensure their hold and notices how weird he isn’t mirroring her movements this time but she refused to wear her precious armor for them to just strip it from her. She hated the idea of walking into the Justice Hall appearing soft and unarmored, but at least this way all her armor would be safe and waiting on her upon her return one day in the future. 

The kid hasn’t left her side all day and he’s stood by her feet the whole time they were getting ready. Din goes to the weapons closet to stock up and she picks up the kid who’s waiting patiently with his little arms extended. "You be good for Din, okay," she tells him quietly in a hushed but serious voice. "I know I'll see you in a couple of days but he’s going to need you and vice versa okay.” She has no clue how much he understands but the next words are as much for her as they are for him. She caresses his little fuzzy head and kisses his little wrinkled brow. Din sees the way she’s clutching him and turns to give them a moment alone. “I love you very much, don’t forget that, Bean. No matter what happens.” She swallows down a lump in her throat to say what she has to tell him before she walks out that door. "I might not be the mama you deserve, but you have a mama who loves you and would do anything to keep you safe. I’m so proud of you and it’s been my absolute pleasure getting to love you and watch you grow and learn. I’ll be back in a couple of days, okay?”

He’s almost inconsolable when Din comes to take him from her to place in his protective carrier as they’re time is up. Din had already told him he’s to remain on the ship until Din returns for him and he seemed okay with the plan until now. He’s clutching her shirt and grabbing fistfuls of her hair and making the most pathetic and desperate mewling noises that are breaking her heart. She tried to comfort him the best she can and puts on a smile as she rubs his velvety ears. “Save some of those cuddles for when I get back okay,” she tells him, in the most normal and calm voice she can muster while hearing his sounds of distress. “I’ll even let you sleep in my shirt when I get back, huh?” When he can’t be reasoned with, Din has to step in and place him in his carrier and she’s never felt so terrible as when he reached out to her and she had to let Din take him away.

Din has some final tactical words for her before the leave the ship. _At least he’s finally in job-mode._ “Don't smart mouth them, Cara. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. Don't antagonize them or give them reason to retaliate against you.”

Cara tries to infuse some humor into this horribly tense situation. “Challenge accepted.”

Din’s not having any of it. “This is serious Cara; you’re there for 48 hours before I’m coming for you. You’re strong, and a great fighter, but enough of them against you in binders will end terribly. I can't even think about what could happen if you give them reason. Please for the love of all that is holy, keep your mouth shut and don’t go looking for trouble.”

“Once I'm there I'll chill out, but I have to make some show to not be messed with. You can't appear weak in prison. Whatever you say in front of this jackass Din, just don’t make me look weak.”

They leave the ship uncharacteristically quiet as they walk toward the city where they will be met in front of the Justice Hall by Rycell and a handful of guards.

Din refused to put her hands in binders until the last possible moment in case this was all a trap and they were ambushed and she needed her hands free to fight, so they walked the long walk into the city center side by side. She wanted to appear tough and impervious to fear, not letting show how scared she actually was, but her desire to touch Din one last time won out and she reached out to grab his hand and he clutched hers in a vice-like grip in return. He was practically vibrating with nervous energy. ‘ _Nervous energy, fear, anxiety, adrenaline-all the same thing’_ she thought to herself. She needed to get her shakes out now too, because she refused to let her hands quiver when the justice officers took custody of her.

She wanted to make a lame joke to diffuse the tension, but for the first time in memory she couldn't manage to think of something. Bean was safe back on the ship and she used that thought to force herself to relax. As they got closer, she could see the steps of the government building and the officers standing outside who she assumed were there to meet them. Din had visibly slowed down as the building came into view and she used his hesitation to turn to him and hold her hands out in front of her in a silent signal it was time to cuff her wrists. She stood with her back to the Justice Hall so they would be blind to everything that went on between Din and herself. From this distance they wouldn’t be able to see he was only getting binders on her now and they couldn’t see they were talking to each other either.

“Aren’t you going to make a joke about how hot you find all this?” he asked, gesturing to the binders hanging from one hand. He wanted to hear her laugh again, but he knew there was nothing funny about what they were walking in to.

“Can I take a rain check?” she said, cheekily. She had a witty comeback at the ready, but it didn’t feel like the right time.

“Yeah, of course. I'll hold you to it.”

She had her back to the armed guards as she waited for Din to do his part and secure the binders to her wrists, but he didn’t move.

“Come on, show time.” She tried so sound encouraging, but it fell flat.

“I ......” Din tried to explain why he wasn’t fastening them, but he didn’t have any words.

“I……..I _can't_.” 

“What do you mean you _can't_?” she asked him. “Of course, you can.”

Din shook his head and he held the binders in his hands. “I thought I could go through with it, but I can't. Let’s make a run for it back to the ship. We can make it.” _They’ve already seen them approaching and they’re expecting them, but he could cover her if they started shooting._

She’s so calm when she looks at him before saying, “we’ve come this far. It’ll be okay.”

“I don't think it will,” he disagrees. “I have a _bad feeling_ about this. If I turn you over, I think this is it. I'll never see you again.”

“We have a plan,” she reminded him. “ _You_ stick to it and _I’ll_ stick to it and we’ll meet in two days’ time.”

“Look Din,” she says, as his distress is evident, “even if you can’t break me out, I'll find a way to get back to you. I promise. Don't you trust me? This isn't the end. I won't let it be.” 

“You promise?” he asks, still unsure, but trusting her completely.

“I _promise_.” She’s never sworn something so important in her life.

He hears the binders closer around her wrists. He can’t bring himself to watch as they close so he focuses on the sound instead. 

“I'll see you in a few days,” she says.

He can't say anything so he just nods.

“I love you Din, more than anything.”

“I love you too.” She can hear the tears in his voice and she feels like she's been stabbed knowing that she's the one making him feel this pain. _He’s been through enough, he doesn’t deserve this too._

“You asshole!” she laughs, as she feels tears on her face. “Don't you _dare_ make me cry before I have to go tell all those people to kiss my ass. It'll lose all effect.” 

He laughs and wipes her face for her with the back of his hand.

“How do I look?” she asks, trying to get herself together.

_Game face. Go time. She could do this._

“Beautiful. Strong. Like a total badass. Like my wife I’ve waited my whole life for and I’m not about to lose now.”

“Come on Din, let's get this over with. The faster we get there the faster I get back to the Crest. We have the upper hand, let’s use it.”

He seems hesitant but she can see himself steeling himself for the meeting they’re about to face together, but separate. Cara speaks again, sick of the sad atmosphere they’ve been brooding in all this time. She’s reached her emotional limit for the day.

“Din Djarin, you listen to me and you listen good! I absolutely refuse to let these assholes take anything away from me and I won't be a sad bitch this whole time, because they’re not worth it! I'm not just suddenly going to change and become a weak damsel waiting to be rescued either. I'm going in there with a fucking mission. I'm fulfilling it while you fulfill yours and I'm getting the Hell out of there. Stop acting like this is a funeral and start acting like we’re going to come out of this on top!”

Din chuckles at the no-nonsense look on her face where there had been tears before. "That's the most you’ve sounded like ‘you’ I’ve heard in a long time." Din feels the lightest he has in weeks at her sudden confidence and don’t-fuck-with-me attitude he fell in love with. He's always been amazed by her strength.

“Seriously,’ she says, getting his attention. "I've got this, you've got this, and we've got this."

“You’re right,” he admits.

"I’m always right, you should know that by now,” she says, smiling for the first time that day. “This is a just another mission that we're going to complete and move on." 

"You're the strongest person I've ever met." He admires her so much in this moment.

"They'll have no idea what they got themselves into. They’ll wish they never heard the name ‘Cara Dune’ by the time we get done here and I'm already looking forward to shooting my way out of there, so you better bring my blaster with you when you come back."

"I know you can handle yourself, I just worry,” he says, not wanting her to think he doesn’t have every confidence in her.

“I know you do, and when I get out of here, I'm going to kick your ass for being such a worrier, so use these days to get ready.”

“I'm always ready for that,” he says, already looking forward to sparring with her when this is over.

“Then you ready to do this mission with me or what? Afterwards we'll get some soup to celebrate.” 

“Let's do it.”

……………………….

They are met on the stairs to the Justice Hall by Rycell and at least 15 other guards and officers.

Rycell speaks first. “I was worried you were playing a very elaborate trick on us, but I see you were telling the truth. Cara Dune, delivered as promised.”

Upon Din's instruction, Cara vowed to speak as little as possible in an attempt to keep her big mouth under control and not invite and more of their ire than she already had.

“Is that your name? Cara Dune?” he asks, as he scans her and confirms she is who she claims to be.

“Yes,” she answered concisely and politely. Din was proud of her. He knew it took everything in her not to answer with some sarcastic asinine comment.

He addressed her again. "Do you know why you've been brought here?"

"No, why don't you enlighten me?” Cara said, before she even registered words coming out of her mouth.

_Well that didn't last long._

“Cara.....” Din hissed under his breath, so quietly that no one else could hear it as it wasn’t picked up b the microphone in his helmet.

Cara was focused on the uniform of the man who stood before her. The bars on his chest indicated he was only a Commander— _she wasn’t very impressed._

He seems more than happy to answer her request. "You're here to stand trial for desertion and sundry other war crimes you managed to rack up under the guise of operating under the best interests of the then-called Rebellion."

He enters some numbers into his data pad and Din's vambrace beeps with confirmation at the transfer of the exorbitant amount of credits that just got deposited into their account. 

"Payment as promised." 

“As we agreed upon,” Din says in confirmation.

"You'll understand if we don't trust your binders,” Commander Rycell said, as he looks up from his scanner to face Din. “If you'll kindly remove them so we can place our own we'd be much obliged.” Cara’s ready to pounce on this guy who wants to take her away from her family the first chance she gets. She scowls at his cowardice. “Why don't you come closer and do it yourself?” she taunts. This little man is half of Din's weight and she could snap him like a twig and he knows it. 

Din obliges and takes of the binders. After they’re removed, she stands there with her arms still in front of her waiting for the next direction.

"Kneel,” the man in front of her says, giving her a direct command.

\--She doesn't move--

He walks around her and kicks the back of her knee, but she barely rocks forward at all. 

He kicks the back of her knees _harder_ and she still doesn't go down. She's smiling.

\--She still doesn't move--

 _Din loves that little shit_. His woman is made of tougher stuff than that and the part of him that isn’t proud as hell is only slightly pissed off at her for being so disagreeable.

"Get on your knees. Now." Rycell demands.

"Not likely."

The guards standing behind them snicker. _So, they don’t respect him as a leader either. Interesting….._

"Cara," Din hisses, finding her resistance less amusing as they go, though he's proud of her standing her ground where most men would be trembling in their boots. “For the first time in your life please keep your big mouth shut and follow orders. Don't give them more ammunition against you. Get on your knees.”

At Din’s pained request, she goes down on her knees before one of the other officers re-cuffs her in standard issue binders and she's hauled to her feet once again, none too gently.

“You know it's a pity,” Rycell says, as he runs his hand down over her hair along the two braids adorning the side of her head. Din was already seeing red at seeing this asshole touching her at all and he was hoping against hope Cara kept herself from spitting in this guy's face. Touching her hair, the braid he had done himself was a no-go and he hoped she kept her cool. Rycell’s hand traced along the larger braid, then the smaller one that represented Din as her husband. While his touch pissed Din off more than he thought it would, it wasn’t until he ran his hand over the small black bead they had fashioned that Din had to force down his reaction. He looked to Cara and saw she had her lip bitten between her teeth and her hands were clamped so tightly into fists, her fingernails were likely leaving small crescents in her palms. He was proud of her self-control. Despite her mouth, she was putting on quite the performance of not being a threat.

“It’s a shame for someone so beautiful to belong in prison.” He lets his hand trail from her hair down the side of her face, over her tattoo and the soft skin of her cheek Din had adorned with kisses only hours prior. “Given the reluctance I saw just now,” he said with a leer, “she must have been a really terrible wife, though I can’t see why you didn’t have any fun with her when she obviously gets on her knees for you just fine.”

Din hears the blasters cocking around him, but he doesn’t know why until he realizes he has this guy by the throat and his feet are dangling off the ground. Din speaks clearly so this idiot doesn’t miss a single word while he has his attention. “If you want to live through the night, I suggest you don't touch her again or talk about matters you know nothing of….... _little boy_.” Once his message is received, he drops him, and takes a step back as the blasters once again lower, albeit reluctantly.

He hears the beautiful sound he’s heard hundreds of times--Cara’s sigh-- that carried her amusement and resignation. “Really?” she says incredulously. “You tell me to keep cool and then you do that? _Seriously_? We're going to have a long talk later about being a hypocrite.”

Din barely even registers her playful words as all his attention is on the man in front of him still bent over at the waist, catching his breath. “Our deal?” he reminds him. “Skywalker?”

This guy can barely talk as he massages the pain out of his throat so his next in command answers the question on his behalf. “Skywalker will be here in one hour, as promised” she assures him. “He just landed, but he will meet you here, on these steps.”

“Come on,” Rycell says, as he recovers and grabs Cara’s binders to lead her away. Din hopes he hadn’t just made things worse for her due to his slip up. It was like he was out of his body--he didn’t even know he had grabbed him—he just couldn’t sit idly by and let this guy touch her and say shit like that without consequence. The Commander tugs hard on the flat meal of the binders between her hands, making her stumble forward to keep up with him. “You're going into general holding for the night,” he states. “I’m sure you'll make lots of friends there. Most of them are ex-Empire, you'll get along just great….” His cheery taunting of what awaits Cara in general holding makes Din’s skin crawl.

Din watches helplessly as they drag her away up the steps toward the door. She keeps turning her head back to look at him and Din has to force his boots to remain stationary at the look in her eyes. She’s still trying to comfort _him_ even over her own fear. _Of course she is._ _Cara is the most unexpectedly selfless person he’s ever met._

When she finally reaches the top of the steps, she turns to him and catches his eyes one last time and tries to flash him a smile but can’t quite manage it. She won’t break eye contact or even blink--she wants him to be the last thing she sees until the door closes. He finally sees the panic and fear and loss written across her brave face and it breaks his heart he can’t even comfort her like he wants without giving something away that could put them all in jeopardy. Her lips barely move but he's so hyperfocsed on her face he catches her mouthing the words in his language that roughly translate to ‘I love you’ in Basic. He shapes his own lips around those same words, though she can’t see it through the helmet but hopes she can feel it anyway. The helmet never hid anything from her so he hopes she can read through it like glass as she’s always done; now more so than ever. Din feels like he’s drowning; but can’t move his arms or legs to save himself. His hands are tied but he knows what’s going to happen if she goes through those doors right now. He’s standing here covered head to toe in the most resilient alloy in the galaxy and weighed down with a dozen weapons but he’s never felt so helpless.

 _What can he say? What can he do? He has no more bargaining chips, just his words. He has to think of something. What could possibly give them pause?_ He thinks of losing his wife after just finding her and he thinks of their kid losing the only mother he's ever known and the best mother he could ever have. He thinks of Bean’s sweet face and the Armorer's cryptic words to him. _They might not hesitate to hurt a woman, but they might hesitate to hurt an innocent---_

He doesn't think. The thought bypasses his brain and make its way out of his mouth.

He yells out, “she's pregnant!” before they reached the door. 

The guards who seem to maybe have a semblance of a conscience halt while several of the others keep walking.

Rycell’s second in command turns back at his exclamation in surprise.

“What?” she asked, wondering if she heard him right. “What did you say?”

“She's pregnant.” The remaining half of the guards stop in their tracks and look back at him. 

They’re already looking at her differently and glancing at one another in silent confusion, clearly conflicted. “We can't take her to general holding.....” 

They’re mumbling to one another but Din can’t hear what they’re saying.

Cara is incensed and finds her voice after her initial shock wears off. “He's lying!” she yells out to the guards holding her, who end up holding her back as she lunges at the Mandalorian who brought her in. “I'm going to kick your ass for this!” she yells across the space to the helmeted man. “You better be _glad_ I’m in prison for your own protection!” She turns back to the officers again. “He's lying! You know he’s lying!”

The damage is already done however, as they’re already looking at her like she’s delicate and they’re even holding her binders with a more gentle grip than before. _Cara is going to kill him for this outburst. Does he know what he just did? How dare he make her look weak in front of all those people. Weakness was the enemy in prison._

Rycell doesn’t seem either interested or impressed by his words or the guards’ moral conflicts. “You really think I don't see through this thinly veiled attempt?” he asks Din, condescendingly. “I've seen this countless times--it's not even original. Every woman who comes through here uses the same excuse……”

He turns back to his guards under his command “Take her away.”

“We can't…….” his Second insists. “Sir, you know we have to follow protocol and take her to medical for clearance first if there's even a claim.....”

The Commander turns to the guards who are staring at Cara like she might explode or fall apart any minute. “Fine, take her to medical,” he says, clearly enraged by this delay, and waves them to the separate side entrance of the building. “This charade will be over in a matter of minutes.”

He turns back to Din and takes a few steps down the stairs to get closer before he speaks. “You already got paid so I don’t know why you care, but your little theatrics only bought her another hour, tops.” 

Din wants that man in front of him to take a few more steps closer, but he knows he’s too smart for that. “You never know what can happen in an hour,” he says, and fills it with as much threatening promise as he ever has used before.

“You _threatening_ me?” this idiot asks Din, like he can’t believe he had the nerve. _Din not only has the nerve; he has the follow through._

Din spells it out for this moron in front of him. “It’s not a threat _, boy_ ….. it’s a countdown. You have one hour until Skywalker is on these steps or I’m coming for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I'd love it if you left a comment :D Makes my day!
> 
> The next installment is the end, I'm sad and excited at the same time. Until next time!  
> No estimate of when though since my schedule at work is changing once again, but I'll do my best :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear if you enjoyed it! Really makes my day :)  
> I hope to have the last 2 chapters up before too long, but work has been a mess. 
> 
> Then just one more "part" to go and it's done :D


End file.
